


Run

by singingwithoutwords



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce is good with kids, Child Soldiers, Clint wouldn't shoot a kid, Coulson Lives, Fury would, Harm to Children, Mpreg, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, References to Abuse, References to Underage Rape/Non-con, Sequel, Tony is not, badass kids, bastardization of mythology, evil government agency, mommy!Loki, seriously I'm making a career of bastardizing things, slight bastardization of canon, the Helicarrier is not a daycare center
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki thought he'd taken his children somewhere safe.  Somewhere far from Asgard, from the wretches that got them on him.  Somewhere they could simply live in peace.  All he wanted was to raise his children, to be a good mother to them and keep them safe.  He thought he finally had the chance.</p><p>He thought wrong.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/252729">Gifts</a>, by lies_d.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Safe Place to Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lies_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lies_d/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Gifts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/252729) by [lies_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lies_d/pseuds/lies_d). 



> **Re: canon divergence**  
>  Apart from all the shifts that will happen during the course of the story, the events of _Thor_ now take place roughly 20 years earlier than in canon (during the late 1980s rather than in 2010). This story takes place immediately before and during _The Avengers_.

Loki inhaled deeply, opening his eyes. The dim light of dusk surrounded them, though the sun was far from setting; the gloom was solely the fault of the towering pine trees stretched endlessly in every direction, untouched by the hand or foot of Man.

“Mother?” His timid Brant tugged on Loki's cloak, pressing close against him, a nervous bundle of thick white furs and even thicker red hair.

“It's all right, darlings,” Loki assured his children, running a gloved hand through Brant's hair. “We're safe now.”

“It's _empty_ ,” Beyla said with satisfaction, stepping up to the nearest tree. “Cold, too.”

Loki smiled, nodding. “Yes, very cold. Much colder than Asgard. But we will need shelter. Vali?”

Vali nodded, wordlessly taking Ronal's hand and walking off into the artificial twilight in search of building material. His oldest were well able to care for themselves- at his birthing, Loki had gifted Vali the skill of a paramount warrior, a fighter from the cradle, and Ronal he had given the unerring aim that had won Loki himself many a battle.

“Mother, hungry,” Torrey complained against Loki's shoulder, drawing a chorus of agreement from his siblings.

Well, no one had ever insinuated raising ten – soon to be eleven – children alone was an easy thing to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Vali and Ronal returned after nightfall. Beyla, his beautiful little demon, had taken it upon herself to gather a mound of wood and start a fire, and Ebbe had coaxed several rodents within reach of her knife. They ate perhaps not as well as they might have in Asgard, but no one complained, and all by the youngest two helped to construct a rough hovel of fallen trees and thick pine branches.

When completed, it was just large enough to fit them and their packs, and the children piled in enthusiastically. Despite the shadow that was the reason they'd fled to Midgard, most of them were eager to enjoy the adventure before them.

Loki laid himself closest to the door, wrapped in fur with both hands resting on his abdomen. Hopefully, by the time Lofn joined them, they would have more of a home to share with her.

 

* * *

 

 

The days passed indistinctly, as did the weeks. The ground was always thick with dead needles, the branches of the trees heavy with snow. Their Jotunn blood thrived in the pervasive chill, and the children were happy.

Aric, Loki's third oldest, appointed himself master builder. In a handful of days, he'd found a better place for them to settle and built a house, a real one of solid stone with proper rooms and a place for a fire. Ronal, with the help of his younger sisters, carved and built a bed for the family, chairs and shelves and cupboards and a cradle for Lofn. Asti, brilliant little runespeaker that she was, warded their home and the area around it, crafted spell after spell to hide them from any who wandered by.

Slowly, their home became... _home_. They had things of their own, built with their own hands. Fur and meat from animals they'd hunted themselves. Territory they could claim, far from anyone who might wish them harm. Hidden from Heimdall, from Asgard, from humankind. Loki almost dared to consider their lives perfect.

Until Ebbe vanished.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ronal, has Ebbe returned?” Loki asked as he stepped into the house, struggling to hide his worry. His children did not wander off. Not even Vali, now old enough to be considered grown, would leave Loki's sight for more than a minute without telling him.

“I thought she was with you,” Ronal said, letting down whatever new trinket he was carving. He stood, brushing wood shavings off his clothing. “I'll go look for her.”

“Take Asti,” Loki said, biting his lip. He hoped, really and truly hoped, that this was simply a prank. Ebbe was only 11, and her sense of humor sometimes expressed itself in less than ideal ways. “Go no further than the river.”

Ronal nodded, rousing Asti from her nap by the fire. Both dressed themselves for the chill spring weather and left hand in hand. Loki turned in the opposite direction to keep looking himself.

Only a few minutes had passed before Loki heard the worst thing he could ever hear: one of his children calling for him, frightened.

“Mother! Mother, come quick!” Valka was all but screaming, the edge of her voice shrill, sawing at Loki's heart as he ran to her. He scooped her up, holding her close to calm her, and she clung to him. “Mother, someone's stolen Ebbe!”

Among the churned-up pine needles and earth, spread across the tangled roots of the shadowing trees, was Ebbe's basket. Valka had woven it for her as a gift, and it lay in shreds and strips of wood, broken beyond repair. The wild mushrooms she'd been gathering were mixed in with the dirt, torn and flattened. Strips of cloth, the brilliant purple Ebbe would dye her entire wardrobe if Loki let her, hung from lower tree branches and fluttered along the ground.

Wherever Ebbe had gone, she had not gone willingly.

“Valka,” Loki said softly, setting her on her feet. “Go home. Run as fast as you can. Arm yourselves and don't leave for anything. Go.”

She went, bless her steady soul.

Loki knelt heavily, touching the ground. The furrows in the earth were deep. Elongated. Claws. Smaller furrows from Ebbe's boots, heartbreakingly tiny craters where her hands had slammed against the ground. She'd fought, but not for long. No blood, thank the Norns; he could hope she still lived. And if she might still live, he would rescue her.

But, much as he wanted to follow her immediately, he had other duties to see to first.

He stood, turned back toward the house. He couldn't steal back Ebbe until the other children were safe, and they obviously weren't safe here.

The children were all waiting for him inside. Only Narfi and Torrey, too young to know how to fight, were without weapons. The shelves were stripped bare, and all the material posessions they had were wrapped in makeshift bundles, ready to be moved.

“Mother, come with us,” Vali said, standing. “Send me after Ebbe, but stay where it's safe, at least until the baby comes.”

Loki shook his head. “The babe will wait a while yet. Longer, perhaps, than Ebbe has. I must go after her.”

“I can-”

“You can protect your brothers and sisters, Vali,” Loki interrupted. “I haven't much magic, but it's more than you carry, and I'm many times your master at combat. I will find Ebbe, you will keep the others safe for me.”

“Mother-”

“This is not something which may be argued, Vali,” Loki snapped, turning on his heel. “We need to leave. I'll find you a safe place to stay. Come.”

They followed in a solemn pack, drawing comfort from their closeness. If nothing else, he could be glad none of them would know a life like his, outcast and always alone. They would forever have each other.

“Mother?”

Loki looked down to find Brant beside him. “Yes, sweetling?”

“Mother, will you be safe?” Brant asked. He was ever a worrier, and the familiarity of it made Loki smile, patting his head.

“I will, Brant,” he promised. “I will be safe, and I will bring Ebbe back. You have my word.”

Brant smiled up at him, his dark blue eyes shining. So like his father. Loki had never learned the man's name, but he at least had seemed to understand the rare honor it was to bed a god.

Loki felt a shift in the air, heard a faint sound like a bottle of wine being uncorked, and Brant's smile slid into a cry of pain as blood blossomed along the side of his thick tunic.

“Brant!”

More faint pops as Loki caught Brant, pulled him close. His magic, the magic he'd gathered and horded for his yet-unborn daughter, it buzzed in him. Not enough, not near enough, Brant was too hurt-

Arms, Ronal's arms, pulling at him. Words in his ear, urging him to... to... he didn't know what. All he could think was to heal Brant, somehow, to save him, to save his child.

“Mother, please!” Ronal exclaimed. “You have to let me help him!”

Loki barely heard him. Not enough, not to heal him, but to save him... he had enough magic to heal the worst, to pull Brant's life out of danger...

He could hear shouting, faint and indistinct. He was dimly aware of fire nearby, and dying screams. Not his children, so let them die. He poured his magic into Brant, knitting torn muscle and shattered bone, sealing gaping holes in vital organs and veins. Save Brant. He had to save his son.

“Mother!”

Vali, too far away to matter right now. Vali would keep the others safe.

Brant moaned, a dying-animal sound, and Loki fought to keep from sobbing over him. Not dead, not dead, not dead-

The litany in his mind crashed to a halt as unfamiliar hands pulled Brant away from him. Black gloves, black arms, hidden face, the hateful emblem of a howling wolf.

Loki reached for his magic, spent and exhausted from saving Brant. Nothing left for the little one, nothing left to defend himself or his children.

“Tag, godling,” a voice that Loki knew better than his own said. Something touched his neck, just above the fur of his collar. The sharp pain of an injection, and the world began to swim. “You're it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“We have to go back,” Aric said, his grip tearing chunks of bark from the tree.

“We can't,” Vali disagreed. He was just as upset as Aric, wanted to go back and save the others just as much as Aric, but he knew they couldn't.

“I don't wanna be caught, too,” Valka sniffled into Asti's furs.

The four of them had escaped the ambush. Mother and their siblings had been surrounded, taken down like animals and loaded into waiting vehicles. Even if they went back now, there was no one there to rescue. They'd only wind up prisoners themselves.

“Vali's right,” Asti said. She was only nine, but even Aric wasn't stupid enough to ignore her. Mother had gifted her the magic of runes, that special ability none of them had save her, and she was smart. “We have to find somewhere safe and make a plan.”

Vali nodded, lifting Valka and holding her close like Mother would. He had a duty to protect those of his siblings who remained. “Let's find shelter for now,” he said.

Aric glared at him, but eventually gave a sharp nod and stepped away from the tree.

Vali sighed, holding out his free hand to Asti. She took it, stepped close by his side, and held her other hand out to Aric.

The four of them set out deeper into the forest, away from Mother. Away from home.

Hopefully, toward safety.


	2. Hidden Nesting Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look- canon characters!

The hollow tramp of heavy boots on metal flooring was a sound Loki had hoped to never hear again. It reverberated in his skull, pounding in time with his headache as he lied unmoving and unresponsive on the cold metal table. The only warmth came from invasive, too-warm hands as he was examined by men he would not dignify with the title of 'doctor'.

“You led us on one hell of a chase, godling. Canadian authorities were pissed when they found out we'd crossed their borders.”

Loki remained limp, eyes closed. He wouldn't give the maggot the satisfaction of a response.

“Pity we didn't manage to grab all the kids,” the man continued, touching Loki's chest. He wore chill leather gloves, and Loki refused to admit the cold touch was soothing. “I was really hoping to get my hands on subject 4. Subject 7's still a long way from puberty.”

Loki tried not to bristle, hearing his children reduced to mere numbers again. The leather glove slid down, fingers splaying across his stomach.

“At least we caught up to you before anything happened to this one.”

He stood in silence for several minutes, the only noise the physicians struggling to work around him. Then that noise died away, and Loki knew they were alone. He fought down a shiver.

“I'm going to enjoy taking this one from you,” he whispered, his breath warm and fetid against Loki's ear. “I'll let you keep it for a while, then I'm going to personally take it away, tear it right out of your arms. Maybe I'll even bring this one up just to kill you once I have my army and you're useless to us.”

Loki couldn't help but flinch away, as much as the heavy restraints allowed. After finally tasting a season of freedom, being able to hold and speak to his children, to be back in this dungeon...

“Sleep tight, Mother. I have some kids in need of retraining.”

The hand left his stomach, and the sound of boots moved across the room. Loki wanted to cry out, to demand to know that Brant would live. He wanted to beg them to let his children go. He couldn't. He tried, but the heavy collar set snug against his throat deadened the sound before it could reach his lips.

Loki counted slowly to twenty after the door closed, then back down to zero.

Only then did he let himself cry.

 

* * *

 

 

Deep beneath the desert, surrounded by a hidden fortress, the Tesseract was misbehaving.

Clint watched the scene from his perch near the ceiling. To anyone else, the scientists below would be just so many indistinct blobs in white coats, but he could easily pick out the details that identified them. Coulson had left fourteen minutes ago to contact Director Fury, so it was only Clint, Selvig, seven assistants, and a big blue cube throwing a tantrum.

Good times.

Another half an hour passed before Fury strode into the room, a black swan amid a flock of geese.

It was not cliché to think in bird metaphors, shut up.

“Agent Barton, report.”

That was all he needed- he was on his feet and moving immediately, on the ground in less than half a minute, striding the length of the room to join Fury and Selvig by the containment unit.

“I gave you this assignment so you could keep a close eye on things,” Fury said by way of greeting.

“I see better from a distance, sir,” Clint answered easily, following Fury a short way away from the scientists.

Once they were out of earshot, Fury turned back to Clint. “You see anything that could set this off?” he asked, nodding slightly toward the Cube.

Clint shook his head. “No one's come or gone. Selvig's had no contact, either; he's clean. If anyone's tampering with anything, sir, it's not at this end.”

“At this end?” Fury repeated.

“Yeah. This Cube's supposed to be some sort of doorway to the other end of space or something, right?” Fury nodded. “Doors can be opened from both sides.”

It was just common sense, and he was surprised Fury didn't seem to have thought of it.

The Tesseract crackled loudly, throwing off vibrant blue light in waves. It had been doing that on and off for hours now, but Clint still let it draw his focus. Careless agents very quickly became dead agents, and death was not high on his wishlist.

In the split second it took his eyes to move, the Cube exploded. Not literally, he could tell it stayed in one piece, but the light erupted exactly like an explosion, shaking the entire room, before it coalesced into an incandescent ball of blue fire. It roiled there for a second or two before exploding again, this time in a controlled column parallel to the floor, racing from the Tesseract to the far wall, where it splayed outward in ropes of electricity and light climbing toward the roof.

In the center of the impact, covered in blue sparks that hissed and sputtered but didn't seem to hurt her, was a girl.

Clint drew his sidearm without thinking, but didn't bring it up just yet, only slid himself slightly forward and to the side, between the stranger and Fury. An agent was expendable, the Director was not.

The girl – he assumed female, what with the long spill of black curls over her shoulders and the dirty dress – sat up slowly, looking around blankly as if dazed. She sniffed quietly, rubbing a dirty hand against an equally dirty cheek. Her eyes were an impossibly bright green, huge, innocent, and full of tears.

“M-mother?” She was holding a staff, one that was probably taller than her if Clint was any judge. Not like a weapon, just clinging to it like she needed comfort. “Where's Mother? Mother?”

Clint hesitated, then slowly slid his sidearm back into its holster. He glanced back at Fury, who was frowning. Fury was also a paranoid son of a bitch sometimes, and from the awkward way she was sitting, Clint figured the girl was hurt.

“W-who are you people?” she asked, hugging the staff against her scrawny chest. Those were definitely bruises on her arms. “Where am I? Where's Mother?”

“Calm down,” Clint said quietly, taking a step toward her. “What's your name?”

She flinched back, just slightly, and Clint felt anger well up in his chest. There was no reason for a kid this young to be so afraid. “M'not suppo-osed to talk to strangers.”

“It's okay,” Clint assured her, taking another step. There was a fading bruise on her temple, half hidden by her hair. “We're the good guys. We'll help you find your mom.”

“Really?”

Clint nodded, taking two more steps, stopping just far enough away she'd know he couldn't grab her and dropping into a crouch. “Really. Tell me your name?”

She smiled, and that was Clint's first hint something was wrong. All the wariness and tension vanished, and her arm came up, much faster than he would have thought possible, shoving the head of her staff against his sternum.

His mind screamed to move, to jump back or to the side or do _something_ , but his body refused to listen. He suddenly felt freezing cold and burning hot at the same time, rushing outward from where the staff rested, where the large Tesseract-blue orb at the end of the staff was pressed against his shirt. His mind panicked for a moment before surreal calm blanketed it, muffling his thoughts until he couldn't hear them anymore. The world consisted of him, the staff, and a little girl with big green eyes who owned him.

“Protect me,” she whispered, lowering the staff.

Clint stood and turned, drawing his sidearm. He knew, without knowing how he knew, what to do. Kill the agents; they would never submit. Assistants, kill if he had to, but they didn't really matter. Blue electricity sang in his skull, pinpointing Selvig. He needed to live.

Clint opened fire.

He wasn't at his best with a gun, but he was still the best in the room. Three agents died before they could pull their weapons. Two more before they could fire off a single shot.

One brave little lab tech took a gun off one of the bodies and fired at him. Clint gave her the honor of a tricky and spectacular headshot.

The pulsating blue surged through his mind as he worked, eliminating the threat against his little mistress, and he turned to Fury, taking the time to reload.

“We need that, sir,” he said woodenly, voice sounding strangely flat even to his own ears.

“This is as messy as this has to get,” Fury said, seemingly completely calm as he lifted the Tesseract with only a thin leather glove for protection, setting it in its case.

“It's going to get much messier, sir,” Clint disagreed. “Step away from the Cube.”

The little girl stood, walking slowly to stand next to Clint. She was definitely injured, using the staff as a crutch. “Get rid of him.”

Clint obeyed. He tried not to, some small smothered part of him violently rejecting the order, but he brought his arm up, aimed, fired, and watched Fury crumble to the ground.

She limped past Clint, to where Selvig sat hunched behind a computer cart. She lowered the staff and touched the orb to his forehead, and Clint watched wavering lines of blue crawl under Selvig's skin, disappearing under his clothing. His eyes darkened, became empty blackness, before blooming Tesseract blue. She repeated the process with the one still-living agent, slumped dazed against the wall, then limped to the Tesseract case, struggling to lift it with her free hand.

“Let me, little miss,” Selvig said kindly, taking the case from her, and she smiled up at him.

Clint approached her wordlessly, crouching long enough to lift her. She settled in his arms without complaint. “How long before it collapses?” he asked Selvig.

“A couple minutes at most,” Selvig answered as they made their way out of the room. “It's a wonder it stayed stable this long.”

Clint nodded. He had to keep his mistress safe, which meant getting her far away from here, so he turned and headed for the nearest vehicle hub.

The comm still in his ear crackled quietly, static hissing for a moment before it was replaced by heavy breathing and a voice thick with pain.

“Agent Barton has been compromised.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce sighed, easing himself into the seat of his only chair. Sure, this part of British Columbia was remote, sparsely populated, and hopefully beyond the scope of the Army, but even in spring it was damned cold. After so long in South America, Canada's weather was still not agreeing with him.

He stretched out toward the small fire in the hearth with another sigh, waiting for his toes to thaw. He'd just finished the two-day journey to the nearest town for his monthly supply run, and he was exhausted. He'd be asleep right this moment, except he was forcing himself to stay awake so he could eat something first.

He sat, focusing on each muscle group and slowly convincing it to relax. There was no danger here. He didn't need to be tense now. No one could find him here.

He was pretty sure his eyes flashed green when someone knocked on the door.

He managed to fight down his instinctive response of fear, levering himself out of the chair and walking across the small cabin to the door. No one could find him. It was probably lost hikers. He'd give them directions and be alone again.

He disengaged the locks and opened the door a few inches to find himself staring into a pair of young, fever-clouded amber eyes. The eyes belonged to a little girl with long wavy brown hair that stuck to her face and neck in sweaty tendrils. Her face was deeply flushed, and she was panting and shivering.

“The woman said you're a healer.”

The little girl was curled in the arms of a young man. Also brunet, but much darker and cut short, and his eyes were emerald green. He was strikingly handsome and frowning deeply down at Bruce.

“I know a bit about medicine, yes,” Bruce said cautiously. Why would someone bring a sick child to him instead of to the hospital?

“Valka is ill. Make her well again.”

“Please, help our sister.”

Bruce opened the door wider- he hadn't realized anyone else was out there. His concentration was slipping.

“Please?” The second speaker was a couple inches shy of five feet, dwarfed by the young man. Their face and build were almost aggressively androgynous, and they were dressed in clothing so non-indicative of gender that Bruce was sure it qualified for some sort of award. The only outward gender characteristic was waist-length blond hair. “She feels hot and her throat hurts, and she can't walk far or stay awake for long. Please help her?”

He supposed he could think of a few reasons why three – make that four, there was another young man standing in the shadows a few feet behind the others – children would come to a remote maybe-doctor instead of a hospital, and none of them would justify not helping. He stepped back, letting the door swing open all the way.

“Put her on the bed,” he instructed, motioning them inside. “Take off her coat. There's towels in the cabinet by the sink; I'll need a few of those.”

The little girl, Valka, was burning up. Her skin was hot to the touch, and she coughed constantly while he examined her.

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, brushing Valka's hair away from her forehead. She moaned softly in pain, and he sincerely wished he had something to give her for the pain she must be in.

“Healer?” the other girl spoke up at his elbow. “Do you know what's wrong with her?”

Bruce nodded. “I think it's the flu,” he said. He was just as glad dealing with her and not the two boys standing by the door glaring at him. “She should be fine in a few days, she just needs to rest and get lots of fluids. Do you live nearby?”

She shook her head. “We don't live anywhere.”

“ _Asti!_ ” the hitherto-silent boy exclaimed.

“He's not bad,” 'Asti' said with utter calm. If Bruce didn't know any better, he'd say _she_ was the one in charge here. “He let us into his home- the least we can do is be honest with him.”

“She's right, Aric.”

“Of course I am,” Asti said, smiling brightly. “I'm always right.”

Bruce couldn't help but smile, though he did manage not to laugh. “I need to change her,” he told Asti. “The chest under the window has clothing in it- can you bring me a shirt for her?”

Asti nodded, scampering over to the chest and rummaging around until she found a large pale blue t-shirt. “She'll like this one. Blue's her favorite color. I'm Asti, by the way, and that's Valka. And those are my big brothers. They're silly sometimes.”

Aric muttered something too faint for Bruce to catch, running a hand through his hair. It was a paler blond than Asti's, and cut even shorter than his brother's. Both boys had green eyes, but Aric's were several shades darker.

“I'm Bruce,” he said, carefully stripping off Valka's sweat-sodden clothing and wiping her down before redressing her and wrapping one of his blankets around her. “And if you don't live anywhere... it's best if Valka doesn't move at least until her fever breaks, so... that is, if you want, you can stay here.”

The three of them shared a long silent conversation while Bruce settled Valka on the bed, then both men abruptly left the cabin.

“They're going hunting,” Asti explained, climbing up on the bed next to Valka. “They should be back soon, Vali's the best hunter ever. Is it okay to lie down with her?”

Bruce shook his head. “I'm sorry, but she's contagious right now. She wouldn't want you to get sick, too.”

Asti sighed, nodding, and climbed off the bed again. “Our packs are still outside. We have furs in there to make a bed with. I'll be right back.”

Bruce shook his head as she hurried out the door, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Had he really just invited four strange kids into his one-room cabin in the middle of nowhere that no one was supposed to be able to find?

_Honestly, it's not the stupidest thing I've done._

He stood and stretched, moving back to the fireplace. He'd need more soup if he planned to feed more than himself tonight.


	3. Formations

Vali and Aric came back after an hour or so with a field-dressed deer. The soup was done, and Valka had woken up long enough to eat a little, though she hadn't been able to keep it down.

Asti was very obviously used to being in charge; Bruce meekly followed her orders in setting up a nest of furs and blankets on the cabin floor, smiling slightly. She was like a little drill sergeant. It was cute in a way he wasn't used to, not having spent much time around children for years.

Aric didn't say a word to Bruce, and spoke to his siblings in very low whispers that Bruce didn't bother trying to overhear. He knew how valuable privacy could be, and even if this _was_ his cabin, it wasn't his place to pry.

Vali had a cunning wariness about him that set Bruce slightly on edge, but he was polite about his distrust, at least, and he was willing to tolerate Bruce for Valka's sake.

Once the deer had been stored for tomorrow and everyone had eaten at least a little, the kids settled into the nest and Bruce did his best to get comfortable in his chair- something much easier said than done. The fire was banked, the lights off. Asti had insisted on giving him a thick woven blanket as thanks for all he was doing, so at least he wouldn't freeze, but he was sure he was going to have one sore neck in the morning.

He was drifting on the edge of sleep, breathing slow and even, when his guests started talking.

“He seems nice.” That was Aric, sounding a bit surprised.

“He _is_ nice,” Asti corrected. “I cast a few runes while he was busy, and he has a good heart. He won't hurt us.”

“That doesn't mean we can stay here,” Vali spoke up, sighing so softly Bruce almost didn't hear it. “He's human, and if he is a good man, we shouldn't put him in danger.”

“We can't leave until Valka's well,” Asti pointed out. “So we have a few days to figure it out. Let's sleep for now.”

There was rustling, but no further conversation. Bruce eventually finished drifting off to sleep, the Other Guy rumbling curiously in the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The desert got cold fast once the sun went down. Filled with the warmth of purpose and the Tesseract's fire, the chill didn't bother Clint. It didn't bother his mistress, either, and beyond that he had no fucks to give.

Once night fell and the stars came out, Clint decided it was safe to move. They'd ditched the SHIELD vehicles, stolen a few nondescript civilian vehicles at a remote diner, then ditched them once Clint judged they were close enough to make the rest of the trip on foot.

Ebbe held her hands up mutely, and Clint lifted her with one arm. He could fire a gun one-handed, and if she wanted to be near him, he wanted her near him, too.

“Where are we going?” she asked, and the Tesseract didn't let him question why the person in charge seemed to know so little.

“Somewhere safe,” he told her. “SHIELD won't be able to track the Tesseract there.”

She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. Completely trusting. It filled Clint with pride that he carried out his mission so well.

“Wake me when we get there,” she instructed into his jacket, not waiting for an answer before her breathing evened out and she relaxed into sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Morning came way too soon. Bruce had woken up every time he tried to shift in the chair, every time Valka coughed, and every time one of the other three moved or made an unexpected noise. He'd hardly slept at all when the sun rose, at which point he just gave up on sleeping and got up to check on Valka.

She was still running a fever and coughing, and she'd need a bath and dry sheets soon, but at least she hadn't vomited during the night.

Once he was sure his patient would survive the next ten minutes without him, he went to build the fire back up, pretending not to notice that Aric was watching him like a hawk. He wasn't in danger. He wasn't being hunted. He didn't need to run.

With no real warning, Aric stood. Bruce reacted on instinct, shoving himself away from the fire and against the wall as his heart rate jumped toward dangerous levels. The fact that Aric responded by dropping into an obvious fighting stance didn't help his attempts to calm himself at all.

_God, no, this can't happen, not here, not now, not around kids!_ Bruce thought frantically, dropping into deep breathing exercises without having to think. He wanted to close his eyes, but if Aric attacked him, the Other Guy would definitely come out, and then...

“Aric, stop it.” Vali's voice was amazingly calm, tone even and not threatening in any way. He stood up slowly, laying a hand on Aric's shoulder. “You're upsetting our host.”

Aric dropped his stance, and Bruce managed to force himself to relax, pushing the Other Guy down. “Sorry,” he said, giving them a shaky smile. “I'm, um... not used to company.”

Vali nodded, pushing Aric back down onto the furs. “I won't ask why you're running, nor will I tell you why we are. All we want is for Valka to be healed.”

Bruce nodded, heartbeat almost normal. “Okay. Deal. I'm... I'm gonna go for a walk. I won't go far.”

 

* * *

 

 

Director Fury was not happy. His displeasure hung over the Helicarrier like a physical shroud, seeping into everyone and making them all a bit jumpy, and everyone very carefully avoided him.

And very, _very_ carefully avoided mentioning he'd been outfoxed by a kid.

Phil paused the security feed again, studying what detail the camera had been able to capture, seemingly oblivious to Fury looming over his shoulder.

“I don't think we can get any more out of this,” he said, letting it play again and watching the grainy figure of the girl climb into Agent Barton's arms.

“So we're fucked?” Fury demanded.

“ _We_ can't get any more out of this,” Phil repeated, emphasizing the pronoun this time. “Stark can.”

“I do not want to deal with fucking Stark,” Fury snapped, turning away from Phil.

“We could ask another genius billionaire tech wizard who builds AIs for fun,” Phil deadpanned. “I'll wait while you find one, sir.”

Fury growled something threatening and technically physically impossible, and Phil stood, gathering his things.

“And keep him away from me,” Fury added as Phil left his office, heading for the deck and the first quinjet that could get him to New York.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony was having the best night ever. Of all time. He had a shiny tower powered by a shiny reactor, a shiny suit of armor, shiny new tech, and a Pepper. A gorgeous, barefoot, shorts-wearing Pepper, and he had her _aaallll_ to himself. Just them, champagne, and JARVIS.

“Twelve percent?” Pepper asked, turning and letting him watch her walk across the room. “For my baby?”

“An argument can be made for fifteen,” he conceded, following her. “I mean, I did do all the heavy lifting. Literally. I lifted all the heavy things. And that little security snafu? That's on you.”

Pepper settled on the floor against the couch and arched a delicious eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“My private elevator-”

“ _Our_ elevator,” she disagreed because she was hot enough to get away with it.

“- _teeming_ with sweaty workmen,” he finished, sitting across the glass coffee table from her. “I'm going to pay for that percentage comment in some subtle way, aren't I?”

She smiled, tapping their glasses together. “Not gonna be that subtle.”

“Tell you what,” Tony said. And not because he was afraid of Pepper's vengeance. “Next building? Gonna say Potts on the tower.”

“On the lease.”

Oh, the saucy little minx! “Call your mom. Can you bunk over?”

She laughed and he grinned. Definitely the best night ever.

Then it had to go and be ruined. Not by JARVIS, he was just the bearer of bad news when he spoke up apologetically: “Sir, my protocols are being overridden.”

Tony sighed, grabbing his Starkphone, checking the ID. Agent just didn't give up, did he? He sighed again and hit the talk button.

“Mr. Stark, we need to talk.”

“You've reached the Life Model Decoy of Tony Stark- please leave a message.”

“This is urgent,” Agent said.

“Then leave it urgently.”

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal Agent in all his secret agent glory.

“Security breach!” Tony exclaimed, tossing his phone on the chair behind him and pointing an accusing finger at Pepper. “On you!”

“Phil!” Pepper ignored Tony entirely, climbing to her feet. “Come in!”

Tony quietly mourned his best night ever.

 

* * *

 

Bruce managed to spend most of the day out of the cabin, coming back every twenty minutes or so to check on Valka. Aric still made him edgy, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, so it was best if they stayed away from each other as much as possible.

He was a dozen yards or so into the woods, just clearing his head, when she appeared.

She was dressed native, but her skin was the wrong tone, her face a bit too round, and no bulky snowboots or oversized coat could hide the predatory grace with which she moved as she stepped into the open, hands at her sides and empty. Attempting to be nonthreatening.

“Nice place,” she said. “Guess out here, it's pretty easy to avoid stress.”

“Avoiding stress isn't the secret,” Bruce told her, wary but not ready to bolt just yet. He had nowhere to run except the cabin, anyway, and he wouldn't put the kids in danger like that.

“What is? Yoga?”

Bruce smiled slightly, glancing around. He couldn't see anyone, but he knew better than to trust that. “I assume we're surrounded?”

She shook her head. “Just you and me.”

“Who are you?”

“Natasha Romanov.”

“Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanov?” Bruce asked. “Because that's not gonna work out for everyone.”

She shook her head again, turning slightly and starting to walk, approaching him at an angle. “Of course not. I'm here on behalf of SHIELD.”

“SHIELD,” he repeated. There were so many alphabet agencies after him it was sometimes hard to remember them all. “How did you find me?”

“We never lost you,” she said with a slightly smug smile. Maybe she'd been the one tracking him. “We've been keeping our distance. We've even helped keep other interested parties off your scent.”

“Why?” The simplest, most loaded question he could ask, because it made no sense for them to know where he was and let him stay there.

“Nick Fury seems to trust you,” she said, shrugging. “But now we need you to come in.”

“If I say no?”

“I'll persuade you.” Strange how she managed to say it without letting a hint of threat or dire consequences seep through.

“And if the Other Guy says no?”

She didn't get to answer that one, because Asti literally appeared between them and launched herself at Natasha Romanov, fists glowing emerald green.

Natasha managed to dodge out of the way, just barely. She had a gun in her hand, but didn't use it just yet.

Asti screamed something in a language Bruce wasn't familiar with, throwing green fire at Natasha, to all appearances fully intent on killing her. Bruce backed into a tree, fighting with himself, trying to keep himself calm.

“I'll kill you!” Asti screamed, and yeah- Bruce understood that language. “Mortal bitch, I'll melt your flesh from your bones and carve out your heart!”

Bruce's heart rate jumped slightly. “Asti!”

He could barely hear himself over the rush of his blood and the dull internal roar of the Other Guy trying to break free as the world tinged green around him.

Natasha had one hand pressed to her ear, to the comm undoubtedly hidden by her artful red curls, screaming commands Bruce couldn't spare the attention to understand.

This was not good. As soon as someone managed a solid hit, Bruce's control was going to snap, and everyone was going to get hurt. He needed to calm down, to concentrate on peaceful things, to bottle the urge to protect Asti from this whole huge mess, to- to- to-

“Asti, you're going to wake Valka.”

Asti froze, Vali's voice managing to cut through everything else, his calm authority even getting to Bruce.

Natasha shifted, and Bruce switched his attention back to her. She still had her gun, and it was still pointed at Asti. “Miss Romanov?”

She actually jumped. Just slightly, a twitch that probably nobody else noticed, but she turned slightly to look at him.

“How about... let's do this the easy way, where you don't use that, Asti doesn't punch anyone with fire, and the Other Guy doesn't make a mess. Okay?”

Vali had already picked Asti up, holding her protectively.

“Natasha?”

After what felt like an eternity, she lowered her gun with a sharp nod, raising a hand to her ear again. “Stand down.”

Bruce couldn't help but smile. “Just you and me?” he reminded her gently.

She was too professional to show embarrassment, assuming she felt any.


	4. Flushed Out

“Wakey wakey, godling. Time to rise and shine.”

Loki kept his eyes closed tightly, not so much as twitching. He remained still as possible, barely breathing, in the hopes the bastard would get bored and leave him be.

A minute passed in silence, then the man sighed, and Loki felt fingers in his hair, stroking his scalp with mock tenderness. “I know you're awake, godling- you might as well give up this charade of yours, or I'll have to be sterner with you. You don't want Eleven to suffer for your stubbornness, do you?”

Loki dragged his eyes open. The face that hovered over him was sickeningly familiar, a face he saw in his infrequent nightmares. The hair was slightly grayer, the face more lined, but the eyes were the same dead hazel, like light-eating chips of stone, full of hate and zeal.

“There's my godling,” he said, running the fingertips of his gloves along Loki's cheek. “We missed you.” Rough stitching caught the corner of Loki's mouth, leather gliding across his bottom lip. “The breeding program stops without the breeder, after all.”

Loki didn't allow himself to react. This man, the soldiers under his command... he'd hoped the nightmare had died in Beyla's fire. He'd prayed that, even should any of the vermin live, they would at least be barred from him and his offspring. To be only a breeder once more, a helpless animal whose progeny were only numbers, was almost more than he could bear.

“That's not what I came to talk to you about, though,” he continued, still exploring the features of Loki's face. “Do you know, back when this project first started, I think one of the medical doctors had a crush on you. We weren't stupid enough to overlook your sons- we had them all thoroughly examined as soon as we took them away from you, just in case. It's funny, none of the notes in Two's file mention he's a breeder, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Even if Bruce had been willing to let Natasha near the cabin, Asti would never have agreed, so they stayed right where they were. Vali dragged sections of fallen trees into a rough square, sitting on one and pulling Asti into his lap. Bruce almost sat across from them, but a look from Asti had him sitting less than a foot away from Vali instead.

Natasha sat – perched, really – opposite them, looking ready to attack or bolt at any moment.

“So,” Bruce said after a long moment of painfully tense silence. “SHIELD. Fury. What do they want with me?”

“We lost something.” Give her credit, her voice didn't waver. He could clearly see the slightly wild zigzag of her eyes, but there was no sign of uneasiness in her voice. “Something very powerful, called the Tesseract. It has the potential power to wipe out the planet.”

“And Fury wants me to... what?” Bruce asked with a humorless smile. “Swallow it?”

“He wants you to find it,” Natasha said, eyes flicking to Asti as she shifted. “It emits a gamma signature, one too weak for us to trace. No one knows gamma radiation like you, Dr. Banner; if they did, that's where I'd be.”

Bruce sighed, glancing at Vali and Asti. “I suppose that's true,” he allowed. “But just because Fury trusts me doesn't mean _I_ trust _him_.”

Asti eyed him over Vali's sleeve. He couldn't help the slight reassuring smile he gave her, and the one she showed him in return warmed him.

“I'm sorry, Miss Romanov, but I can't leave.”

“The situation could explode into a worldwide catastrophe at any moment,” she protested, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“I have a prior commitment to fulfill.”

“If you have a patient, SHIELD can send-”

“I doubt that would be a good idea,” Bruce interrupted. “No one here has any reason to trust SHIELD or anyone they might send.”

Natasha sighed and stood slowly, stepping backward over the log and backing toward the tree line. “I need to make a call.”

Bruce nodded, reaching out and absently patting Asti's hand. She wasn't wearing gloves, and her fingers felt like icicles as she wove them through his.

“You're warm,” Asti said quietly. “She's cold. Colder than the Casket.”

“Is that why you attacked her?” Bruce asked carefully. Vali had said they were running- was it from SHIELD?

Asti shook her head, squirming out of Vali's lap and into Bruce's. “She tries to hide her poison, but I can smell it. The death and blood on her is the same as them.” She looked to Vali as if for permission, which he seemed to give. “The ones who stole Mother. They smelled the same, when they attacked us. I won't be a prisoner again, I _won't_ , I-”

Bruce felt his heart spasm, a gut-wrenching emotional response that set the Other Guy to rumbling again for a moment, and he pulled Asti close, resting his cheek against her hair, overcome by the desire, the _need_ , to keep her safe.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You won't be, I promise. I'll protect you. You're safe. I swear you are. As long as I'm here, no one will touch you.”

He'd never... he knew, in the back of his mind somewhere behind a haze of green, that the Other Guy wasn't mindless. He could tell friend from foe. He'd protected Betty, even saved Ross, because it had been the right thing, the _only_ thing to do. He was willing to trust his other half, to give control to the monster if it meant he could keep that promise. He'd do it gladly.

He'd forgotten Vali was there until he leaned sideways, against Bruce's shoulder.

Bruce hesitated a moment, then freed one arm from Asti and slid it around Vali instead, because he looked so... young. He revised his initial age estimate down by about five years, because without his guarded distrust and the tenseness of always being on edge, he looked so very heartbreakingly young. Eighteen at the very oldest, young enough that he needed someone to guide him still.

And he seemed willing to let Bruce be that someone.

The fragile moment fell to pieces at the sound of boots on pine needles as Natasha came back, hands out slightly and empty. Bruce doubted she could miss the atmosphere or their positions, but she thankfully chose not to acknowledge either.

“Fury has a compromise,” she informed him. “Would you like to hear it?”

 

* * *

 

 

The cavern her archer had found them was pleasantly chilly. The humans scuttling around it complained, but Ebbe paid them no mind. They were unimportant, mattering only in how useful they were. Most of them were replaceable.

Ebbe slipped around a heavy curtain of plastic and into the small alcove Selvig had claimed. She remembered him from the tales Uncle Thor told of his time on Midgard. He was older now, dying slowly as humans inevitably did, but he was still useful. His mind was agile, his knowledge invaluable. She would tolerate the warmth he needed.

Her archer followed her into Selvig's domain, a silent shade that never tired, never complained, was unquestioningly loyal.

“Little miss,” Selvig greeted her with a warm smile. He made no move to touch her- they had all learned quickly that her archer would not tolerate that. No one touched her but her archer.

“Doctor,” she said, because even after the dark and the pain and the endless echo of command, she remembered her manners. “How goes your study?”

“Oh, the Tesseract has shown me so much,” Selvig said, an excited child with new toys. “So much. It's more than just knowledge, it's...” he paused, fumbling through words for the one he needed. “It's _truth_.”

Ebbe smiled, nodding. She could faintly hear the Tesseract's song, too far away to be understood, but close enough that she could long for more of it. “Have you finished the list of things you still need?”

Selvig nodded, holding one of his machines out to her archer. His eyes flickered like lightning across the screen. “Iridium. Don't ask for much, do you?”

Selvig shrugged, already refocusing on the Tesseract. All the song required of him was his work.

“You can find it, can't you?” Ebbe asked, biting her lip. “For me?”

Her archer looked down at her, nodding once. “I can get it,” he assured her. “I'll have to leave.”

“Where will we go?”

“Not we. Me. You're staying.”

That confused Ebbe. He should not refuse her, shouldn't give her orders. That wasn't how she'd been told the staff would work.

He dropped to one knee, looking up at her, holding her gaze in a way that reminded her painfully of Mother. “I can't do this and protect you at the same time,” he said bluntly. “I'll do anything you ask of me, but not if it puts you in danger, Mistress. I'd rather fail you than let you get hurt. You stay.”

Ebbe's breath hitched suspiciously. _Protect me_ , she'd ordered, and he was obeying. She knew it was only the staff, he was human and vermin that couldn't comprehend how much it meant to her. It wasn't him, only the staff, but she craved his gentleness. Craved the lie that was his care.

She didn't mean to move, to show weakness to the thralls and underlings around them, but she was still a child, and she slid her arms around his neck as a child. “When must you leave me?”

“Soon,” he said, and she heard the song within him swell, just slightly. “As soon as I have my tools.”

“Put me to bed before you go?”

He gathered her wordlessly into his arms and stood, turning toward the sheltered room he'd deemed safe enough to serve as hers. Everything about him was a lie, but it didn't hurt to let herself believe. Just for now.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, I admit it,” Tony said, gnawing absently on his thumbnail. “I'm terrified of a little girl. I would've admitted it earlier, but I didn't know Pepper when she was a little girl. Don't tell her I said she was probably terrifying as a kid.”

“Of course not, sir,” JARVIS answered, because he was damned snarky for a glorified string of code.

“What did I tell you would happen if you got sassy with me again, J?”

“You would download me into a toaster and donate me to a country bed and breakfast.”

“Really? Damn, I'm getting creative with my threats these days. You sent the enhanced shots to Fury's spymobile, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Let's take a look-see through all the related data he thought we couldn't steal while his back was turned while we wait to hear back. And while we're at it, we should probably be scanning local law enforcement comms for anything suspicious involving a little girl and a bunch of adults. And creepy ninja spy soldiers.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thanks, J. Dummy, are you done with that damn smoothie yet? I need to leave soon!”

Dummy whirred and proudly presented him with a glass. Its contents were dark brown and it looked like it contained motor oil. He took it, anyway.

“Good job, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I don't trust her,” Aric said bluntly. He'd planted himself in the cabin doorway and refused to let anyone inside, not even his siblings. He'd made an exception for Bruce when Valka started coughing, but now he wasn't letting Bruce back out. “I don't want her near any of us.”

“We don't trust her either,” Vali said. “But we have no choice. Valka is sick, and the three of us alone can't fight this entire world. The healer says it's safe, and he's given us reason to trust him.”

“I won't risk Valka on a human.”

“ _We're_ half human,” Asti snapped, trying to shove past Aric. “If you won't trust Bruce, trust me. I love Valka just as much as you do, and I want her safe, too.”

Bruce sighed to himself, checking Valka's temperature. Her fever had broken earlier in the day, but she was still hotter than normal. He didn't like the thought of moving her, but he knew that wherever SHIELD wanted to lock him up, it was bound to have better medical facilities than this. He understood where Aric was coming from, but really- going was probably in Valka's best interests.

“Mother wouldn't thank us for handing her over to wolves,” Aric said heatedly. “She'd be defenseless against them!”

“Enough! I am eldest, and I say we go- that makes this final!”

Aric's shoulders were tense, and even from behind it was obvious he wanted to keep fighting, but he managed to control himself. He turned and stalked to the bed, shoving Bruce aside and gathering Valka against his chest, cradling her protectively.

“Aric,” Bruce said quietly. “I promise you, nothing's going to happen to any of you if I can help it. I can't ask you to trust me, or SHIELD, but still- you have my word, I'll do everything in my power to keep you all safe.”

Aric glanced down at him, settling Valka's head against his shoulder, and nodded sharply. Bruce couldn't really blame him, remembering Asti's comment about being attacked and their mother being taken. They had every reason to be suspicious of everyone and no reason to trust anyone.

Bruce collected his bag, stuffed full of a change of clothes and what little medicines and supplies he thought he might need, then took a moment to settle himself before stepping outside, trying to keep himself between Natasha and the kids.

“We're ready,” he said, and she touched her ear again, relaying the message.

Out of sight but not of hearing, an engine roared to life, and it was a matter of seconds before the truck pulled into the clearing. It didn't look armored or like a military vehicle- it looked like an ordinary truck with snow tires and a covered bed. Natasha yanked the passenger door, looking over her shoulder.

“There's blankets and food in the back,” she told them. “We thought you'd be more comfortable there.”

Bruce nodded, smiling his thanks. The back wasn't sealed. They could get out when they needed, and the cover didn't have a chance in hell of containing the Other Guy. The kids would probably prefer it, too.

Vali climbed in first, helping Asti in, then awkwardly pulled Aric up when he refused to let go of Valka. Bruce climbed in last, and didn't protest when Asti insisted on curling up under his arm, head resting on his chest. He was a bit surprised that Aric sat on his other side without comment, leaving Vali near the tailgate, very obviously standing guard. Bruce made sure all of them were adequately bundled up and checked Valka one last time, then settled against the truck bed as they started to move. It was going to be a long ride, and he should sleep while he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking hell, Bruce, why are you so damned fluffy with kids?
> 
> Reviews are loved and appreciated. ^^


	5. Lost Nestlings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, check the tags. Because seriously, this shit's gonna get worse before it gets better.
> 
> It will get better, though.
> 
> Eventually.

SHIELD would be looking for them. If nothing else, Clint knew that for a fact. Whatever faces they'd managed to extract from the security footage would be running constantly through any and every resource at SHIELD's disposal until something popped up. That was how they worked.

Luckily SHIELD had enemies, enemies who were more than happy to ship a traitor halfway around the world. They were too stupid to wonder why he'd deserted, or what the hell he wanted in Germany, but that wasn't Clint's concern.

Night had fallen over Stuttgart by the time Clint and his lackeys hit the ground, which suited him just fine. Between the lights at street level and the fact that no one ever looked up, they could go over the roofs and hit their target with no trouble; that was exactly why he'd picked small, agile fighters to accompany him.

The hall, when they reached it, was well-guarded and full of light. Once they reached the nearest safe rooftop, they stopped. One man and one woman dropped their bags and started undressing, changing into a tuck and deceptively tight evening dress. Their job was to get close to the host, and he felt a keen yet somehow distant yearning for Natasha. He didn't trust any woman undercover as much as he trusted her, but she didn't serve his Mistress and was therefore the enemy.

The pair made their way to street level, slipping into the crowd without difficulty, and Clint took the remaining operative back the way they'd come. He had some guards to kill and a vault to open.

 

* * *

 

 

Ebbe could not contact her allies. There was a link there, from them to her, but not the other way around. She had no way to reach out to them, or to prevent them reaching for her, plucking her mind from her body and pulling her back. She had only the vague sensation of something not quite right in her skull as warning, then the chill chamber faded into stone and starry sky.

“He grows impatient, child.”

Ebbe drew herself up and wished she were taller. The strange being that summoned her to this barren rock was taller than her, loomed over her and made her feel small and powerless.

“I'm moving as fast as I dare,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady, to not react to the threatening hiss and whisper that always surrounded them here. “I haven't the tools to move openly.”

The Other – she didn't know its name, only that it was the lesser of the two beings that ruled her – made a noise of distaste, reaching out a gnarled hand and tangling it in her hair and yanking upward. “You have the staff.”

“But I don't know how it works!” Ebbe protested, standing on her toes to try and ease the pull on her scalp. “It doesn't work like you said it would!”

It released her. She couldn't see its eyes beneath its hood, not even collapsed in the dust at its feet, but she could feel the ice of its gaze.

“You are not using it correctly,” it said. “He has given you the tools to serve him, girl. Perhaps your precious family was right to abandon you to us, after all.”

Ebbe growled, sweeping the staff at its legs. It stepped back, giving her room to climb to her feet. “Never speak of my family again!”

It laughed, a sound like the rattle of a deadly serpent. “Do you still love them, after they betrayed you?”

“Shut up!” Ebbe tried to attack it again, and again it moved, grabbing her hair and pulling her off her feet entirely.

“Your tantrums do not amuse him, girl,” it informed her. “Build the gateway. Your time runs short. Do not fail him. He dislikes failure.”

It let her go, and she fell once more to her knees, biting back a sob. She wouldn't show such weakness. She didn't dare. If they decided she wasn't strong enough to serve them, they would take the staff back, leave her here to die alone. She _owed_ them for keeping her even when her own mother didn't care enough to come for her. She couldn't fail them.

“Do you understand, girl?”

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

The truck rolled to a stop on the tarmac of an airport too small to have proper runways. The cab doors opened and closed, but no one in the bed moved just yet.

Hours ago, Aric had shifted Valka to Bruce's lap and switched places with Vali, letting his brother get some rest while he stood guard. Asti had shifted from person to person the entire ride, rifling through the supplies and making sure everyone ate and kept hydrated. Bruce was the only person who hadn't really moved- less out of choice than because his lap seemed perpetually full of kid, and Vali had decided he made a great pillow.

Not that he minded in the least.

Natasha appeared several feet from the tailgate and approached slowly. Halfway behind Bruce, Asti tensed, and Vali put a calming hand on her shoulder. She hadn't wanted to discuss why she was so hostile toward Natasha, but Bruce had coaxed enough out of her to know it had to do with the smell of her: apparently, Natasha Romanov of SHIELD smelled like a highly trained killer.

“We need to board a jet now,” Natasha said, voice calm and unruffled. “Are you sure you don't want a medical team to-”

“We're sure,” Bruce interrupted. “Really. Thanks for the offer, though. Again.”

Aric kicked the tailgate down and jumped out, keeping his eyes on Natasha. “None of your doctors touch Valka. That was the deal. Are you backing out?”

Natasha didn't so much as blink at him, completely cool and composed. “No. I won't mention it again.”

“Good.”

Aric turned and held his hands out to Asti, helping her down. Vali climbed out without help, taking Valka so Bruce could climb down. Bruce had no illusions about the escort forming around them- they probably had some specific instructions and equipment, in case he had an episode. For once since the accident, he really didn't care. As long as no one hurt the kids, and kept him from hurting them, he just didn't care.

The jet, when they boarded, proved to be far more advanced than any aircraft Bruce had ever seen. True, he hadn't actually been in an aircraft since the helicopter over Harlem, but that hadn't actually been all that long ago. He settled onto one of the plush benches, trying not to let the military air of the thing make him too uneasy.

The kids chose to sit by him, pressed close in a small cluster- Vali and Valka to one side, Aric to the other, and Asti just climbed into his lap without a word.

Natasha and two of the escort boarded with them, sitting on the opposite side of the jet.

“We'll be about two hours to the carrier,” Natasha said. “Director Fury will meet us there.”

“No doctors?” Bruce asked, more to reassure Aric than himself. He didn't need reassurance; he was too steeped in a life on the run, not trusting anyone, expecting to be betrayed at every turn, for reassurances to mean much.

Natasha nodded. “No medical staff. Fury's ordered you a secure room for your patient.”

Bruce sighed, stroking Asti's hair. She was tense, and it was making him tense slightly in response. “Alright. Thank you.”

The rest of the flight passed in tense but at least not openly hostile silence.

 

* * *

 

 

Ronal didn't react to the door to his cell opening, footsteps crossing the thin carpet. A pair of boots entered his field of vision, impersonal and polished black.

“Let's go, Two,” the nameless soldier ordered, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet.

“I want to see Mother,” Ronal said, because he said that every time one of them came to him. When he was taken to the doctors to be examined, when he was escorted once a day to the showers, when he was fed, he always asked for Mother, in the hopes he could wear them down through sheer repetition.

The soldier sighed, pulling Ronal toward the door, then stopped abruptly and let him go, snapping to attention. “Sir.”

“At ease.”

Ronal lifted his gaze, meeting the man's eyes. It had been... disappointing to know he'd survived. Ronal wasn't normally vindictive, but he wished now that Beyla had managed at least one more death during their escape. “General.”

“Two,” the General replied, smiling. “I wonder if you knew. I'd like it if you didn't- I don't like brats knowing what I don't. On the other hand, the breeder didn't know, either, so it would be just perfect if you kept it a secret from him.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Ronal said, sighing. “If you have to gloat, at least do so in a way I can understand.”

Ronal wasn't a warrior like Vali. He had no magic like Mother and Asti. He didn't have Ebbe's charisma, not even Beyla's savage cruelty. His only real skill was his words. They could be useful, he'd found, especially with the General. The man was almost pathetically easy to confuse with words. Ronal could use that.

The General grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close, setting his other hand against Ronal's stomach.

“Congrats, Two- looks like Mommy isn't the only breeder in the program anymore.”

“Oh, that.” No, Ronal hadn't known, but he'd suspected. He'd noticed small differences between himself and his brothers, parts of him that were more like his sisters and Mother. He'd never asked, never cared to know for sure, but the General didn't need to know that. “I was wondering when you'd strap me to a table and use me as a brood mare. Is it today, then?”

The General stared for a moment, then laughed. “You're a smart boy, Two- I always liked that about you.”

“You'll forgive me if I don't take that as a compliment.”

“I don't care one way or the other. But you're smart enough to behave, aren't you?”

“I suppose there would be consequences if I didn't.”

“Eight's still relying on machines to keep him alive,” the General said, smiling cruelly. “If we have to concentrate our resources on holding you, we might not be able to spare any for him.”

Ronal wished he could say he was surprised. Of course they would hold Brant's life hostage. He wondered if they'd given Mother a similar ultimatum; he'd have taken it, Ronal knew. For any of them.

“Then yes. I'm smart enough to behave,” he said at length.

“Good boy,” the General said, patting his cheek. “Corporal, escort the breeder to his new quarters and... induct him.”

“Yes, sir.” Ronal didn't need to look to know the Corporal wasn't entirely happy with his orders, but he would obey them. If nothing else, at least his first stud wouldn't be cruel. “Let's go, Two.”

Ronal went, not resisting. There was nothing he could do for now but what he was told.

 

* * *

 

 

Stuttgart was a disaster, but a successful one. Clint was the only one to make it out alive, and civilian casualties were in the double digits by the time he was gone, but he'd gotten what he came for. Part of him felt he should feel bad about the dead, but the swelling song washed that sentiment away somewhere over the Atlantic, and he landed stateside with a clear mind once more.

He'd barely stepped inside the cave when he was confronted with a harried-looking woman in a tactical vest.

“She's gone,” the woman said bluntly. “Disappeared about two hours ago.”

Clint didn't need to ask who. He shoved the tube of iridium into her hands and turned around. “Take that to Selvig,” he snapped. “Tell him the plan goes forward, whether I bring her back or not.”

He didn't wait for a response before stalking back outside. His only concern now was his mistress's safety. He had to find her before someone else did.

 

* * *

 

 

Ebbe clung to her staff, pressing close as physically possible against the rocks, panting and shivering. She was lost, how could she be lost, why was the desert so large, where was her archer, had he abandoned her, too, that shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't-

She sobbed, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. She'd only wanted to find her archer, to welcome him back. She hadn't doubted he'd come back with what she needed, had trusted the staff. Now, though, with only the cold company of the stars, she couldn't help the creeping panic that even the staff's magic wasn't strong enough to counteract her own worthlessness. Even thralls could abandon her when they wished.

Thunder growled in the gathering clouds overhead. Ebbe pressed herself against the stone, trying to hide from the noise. She should have stayed where it was safe, instead of running from the Other and its words.

Lightning cut the sky once, twice, in jagged patterns. It touched the ground with a deafening _crack_ , and Ebbe fought down a scream, because this lightning tingled familiarly, and the silhouette swathed in shadows was one she knew.

Thor.


	6. Touching Down

Ebbe tried to be invisible, to be so small and insignificant that Thor wouldn't notice her as he turned. He held Mjolnir, and she had no doubt he'd come to kill her.

His gaze slid over the rocks, finding her and pinning her in place with just the weight of it. “Ebbe.”

She managed somehow to curl herself tighter, and closed her eyes. She could at least face her death in silence, if not with dignity.

“Child, why are you here?” Thor asked. “Where is Loki?”

Ebbe flinched, just slightly, at the mention of Mother. “Ask your precious Gatekeeper, prince,” she said, proud that her voice didn't waver. “I have no dealings with Loki or his kin.”

There was silence a moment. Thor didn't speak, nor did he move in a way she could hear. Ebbe opened her eyes, looking up to find Thor staring at her in confusion.

“Kill me, Prince Thor, and be done with it,” she said. “I won't-”

An arrow, as if summoned by magic, appeared in the ground at Thor's feet, buried in the ground.

“Back the fuck off, Blondie.”

Ebbe stood and turned, relief and horror warring for supremacy within her. Her archer perched at the top of the pile of boulders, another arrow already raised and aimed at Thor, and she was relieved beyond words to see him. But he was only human, and Ebbe knew the strength Thor was capable of- he could crush her archer without even truly meaning to.

“Are you alright, Mistress?”

Ebbe nodded, glancing over her shoulder at Thor. “Welcome... welcome back, archer.”

Thor's confusion had visibly grown, and now he frowned down at Ebbe. “Mistress, Ebbe? What have you been doing here? Where is your mother?”

“Apparently you didn't hear me over your outfit,” her archer interrupted. “Back. Off. Before I plant an arrow between your eyeballs.”

Ebbe wouldn't deny the thought had appeal. Long before her family had abandoned her, Thor had turned his back on all of them, and she was certain he wasn't on Midgard to reconcile. She knew no mortal weapon could kill him, but to see him suffer, to watch him in pain for just a few short minutes...

“I mean Ebbe no harm, human,” Thor said. “I wish only to speak with her. Lower your weapon.”

“I don't give a fuck. No one tells me what to do but Mistress, and you don't exactly fit that title. Last warning.”

“Archer, stop.” All his care was false, she knew. If not for the song of the Tesseract, he would sooner kill than serve her. She knew that. She owed him nothing and he should mean nothing, but still. Still. “It's alright, my archer.”

He glanced down at her, bow not wavering. “You're scared.”

“Clint, _please_.” She knew his name, had known it from the moment he'd become her thrall, but had never used it. It made her seem too... soft.  Weak. “Please, Clint- just go. Go back to the others. I'll be along.”

It was a lie and they both knew it, but he slowly, reluctantly, rose from his crouch. “Hurt her at all,” he told Thor, “and I'll cut you apart. Slowly. Might just make a career of it.”

Thor nodded once, gravely. He lied so easily with just a gesture.

Ebbe stayed still until her archer was gone. She would never see him again, she was certain, but her plans were already in motion. Even should she die here, the entire human race would still follow her. The planet would still be laid to waste, suffering as she had suffered. The Other would have its gateway, and she would have her revenge.

“Well?” she asked, steeling herself for the coming pain. “Will you slay me with your bare hands, or have I earned the honor of Mjolnir?”

“I would not harm you, Ebbe,” Thor said, stepping toward her. She managed not to step back in response. “I've come only to return you to Asgard.”

Ebbe laughed bitterly. “You say that as though it's a better option,” she said. “Give me death instead, Uncle Thor- at least death would end my suffering.”

He looked so _confused_. It was almost funny. “Child, what's happened to you?”

She laughed again, eyes stinging. She would not cry. “If you aren't going to kill me, I have a world to destroy. Excuse me.”

It took all of her will to turn her back on Thor, and she trembled with fear she didn't want to show him. Would he attack her now, if only to save his precious Midgard? She'd never see it coming, have no way to block it or fight back. He could kill her easily as she started across the sands, clutching her staff.

“Ebbe-”

His voice was closer than she expected, and she shrieked, shying away from him. His hand was as wide as her forearm was long, fingers closing on her shoulder, keeping her in place. She struggled, knowing it was useless, clinging to the staff as Thor tried to pry it from her grip. She wasn't so useless she'd just let him take it from her- he'd have to kill her first.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sir, our sensors are picking up unusual energy signatures approximately ten kilometers to your left,” Jarvis said. “One of them matches what was recorded in the SHIELD base immediately before its collapse. I recommend investigating.”

“You find me all the fun stuff,” Tony teased, grinning as he banked to the left, slowing down so he didn't overshoot his target. “Hopefully Fury doesn't get pissed I ditched him to look at shiny stuff.”

“Perish the thought, sir,” Jarvis snarked back, making Tony laugh out loud. “I've notified Director Fury. He assures me a response team will be with us shortly.”

“I'll try to leave them something to play with.”

“It's only polite to share your toys, sir.”

Tony snorted, banter falling to the wayside. He was picking up two people in the middle distance, very focused on each other- one was the terrifying little girl with the Glowing Blue Staff of Doom, and the other was a big blond musclehead trying to take said doomy staff away.

As a general rule, Tony didn't mind when people bullied villains. If someone spit in Hammer's mashed potatoes, Tony sure as hell wasn't going to go crying to the human rights activists. But seriously, picking on a little kid? That was just plain wrong. Bent on world domination or not, she was still a brat. Brats did _not_ get picked on while Tony Stark was around to stop it.

“What do you think, J? Does he get a warning shot?”

Jarvis's little processors whirred as nanoseconds ticked by. “Perhaps just a love tap, sir.”

Tony grinned, pulling to a stop and raising one hand, repulsor brightening. He didn't want to seriously injure the guy, so he let power build to 15% and fired at his armored back. The blast had the desired effect of breaking up the one-sided tussle and getting both of them to focus on him.

“It's not nice to pick on kids. Even if the kid in question happens to be terrifying,” Tony admonished, landing as gently as a massive metal suit of armor could on the sand.

The WWE reject frowned at him. “This is no concern of yours, metal man.”

“Umm... yeah, not agreeing with you there. I've kind of got this superhero gig going for me- makes anyone being an ass to kids my concern.”

“You know not what you're dealing with, mortal.”

Tony had been called a lot of names recently – jackass, murderer, thief, it was a big and varied list – but that mortal comment actually kind of stung. And a stung Tony Stark stung back.

“Shakespeare in the desert?” he responded with his best verbal sneer, striking a sarcastic pose (yes, he could make poses in the suit sarcastic; behold his awesome). “'Doth Mother know you weareth her drapes?'”

He caught the sound of a muffled giggle. Hey, Small and Scary had a sense of humor!

“Now take your toy hammer and get lost. Me and the kid have business of the 'recovering stolen government property' variety to discuss.”

“You will discuss nothing. Ebbe belongs on Asgard.”

“And as soon as she gives up the Cube, she's all yours,” Tony snapped. “Until then, stay out of my way.”

Like most big and bad guys, Mighty Muscles didn't take well to being told what to do. He expressed his displeasure by throwing a fit: a fit that just happened to be shaped like a big-ass hammer.

Thanks mostly to Jarvis and slightly to his own reflexes, Tony managed to dodge enough that the hammer only clipped the armor on his shoulder, scraping paint and metal shavings in a shower of sparks. Because it was a hammer and not a fucking boomerang, Tony wasn't expecting it to slam into his back and send him sprawling face-first into the sand.

Responding with a palm blast of 70% was maybe a bit overreacting, but that had hurt, and now there was _sand_ in his _armor joints_ , and that would be a bitch to clean out later.

Assuming he had a later.

“That,” Tony said, taking to the air again in a shower of sand, “was not nice.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve had been hoping he'd have some time to settle everything in his mind. This future world, a world in which everyone and everything familiar was gone or changed beyond recognition, had been bad enough, but at least he'd been given time to adjust. Now, though, he hadn't even been allowed to finish reading the debriefing packet Fury had left for him before he was being herded into the belly of a sleek jet and told he needed to suit up.

The war that was so long ago for the rest of the world still hung in Steve's recent memory, and he'd stripped down to his skivvies and pulled on the uniform without a second thought, too distracted by what he was about to face to even notice that one of the pilots was a dame. He was too busy trying to process, too used to having to get his gear on at a moment's notice no matter who might be watching.

“You ready, Captain?” Agent Coulson asked. Despite his unassuming stance and paper-pusher look, Coulson had the voice and innate authority of a battlefield commander, and Steve automatically snapped to attention. “Easy, Captain- I'm just a handler. You're the big guy here.”

“He's lying through his teeth,” the dame – woman, not dame; dame was offensive and she deserved his respect even in his own thoughts – spoke up without taking her eyes from the dizzying array of controls. “The only reason Coulson doesn't rule the world is because he doesn't want to deal with the paperwork.”

“You wound me, Agent Romanov,” Coulson said with a fond smile. “But we can discuss that later. Captain, your priority is to retrieve the girl and, if she has it, the Tesseract. Mister Stark is already on the ground; let him deal with the potential hostile. Aside from that, you have free rein- I trust your experience.”

“Thank you, sir,” Steve said, nodding. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact he would be treating a little girl even skinnier than he used to be as the enemy, but he could do it. Monsters could look as innocent as an angel if they wanted. “How close are we?”

“ETA in roughly thirty seconds,” Agent Romanov said. “We'll be landing back a ways- the kickback might interfere with Stark's suit.”

Steve nodded again, hefting the familiar weight of his shield. He of all people knew that armor had its weaknesses- if snow could seep its way through the tightest joint, he didn't doubt sand could do the same. Just because he had yet to actually meet Stark didn't mean he wanted to be responsible even in part for interfering with his fight.

“Touching down,” she announced after a moment, and Steve moved to stand by the hatch as it opened, spilling cool desert air into the hold. “Good luck, Captain.”

Steve didn't even need to think about the 'thank you, ma'am' he gave her in return as his feet hit sand and he headed toward the fight still in full swing under a threatening sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a sketch I drew of Ebbe while I was supposed to be writing this chapter:
> 
> Because I am a bastard and the Chitauri didn't exactly make her tea and cookies while she was with them. 


	7. A Reunion of Sorts

_Go back to the others._

The blue haze covering him pushed Clint to obey unquestioningly. Obeying was what he did, it was what he was good at. He was supposed to obey.

_Protect me._

He had to obey. He couldn't choose to obey or not obey when he felt like it.

_Go back to the others._

_Protect me._

He couldn't do both. He couldn't follow both commands. Going back meant leaving his mistress unprotected. Protecting her required not going back like he'd been told.

Clint stood still as a statue in the darkness, sand shifting around his boots, struggling with himself. He knew which command he _wanted_ to obey, but he couldn't justify it. He didn't get to make his own decisions anymore, even if he could feel the dim spikes of fear echoing back along the thread connecting him to his mistress.

Jet engines roared in the middle distance, coming closer. Clint didn't have to look to know; he'd spent enough time around the quinjets that he could identify the sound in his sleep.

SHIELD had found them.

_I'd rather fail you than let you get hurt._

He turned around, hurrying back toward the cover of the boulders. He'd disobey to keep her safe. He'd done it before. He'd rather die than do otherwise.

 

* * *

 

The fight between Stark and the hostile was... surprisingly even. Either the Iron Man armor wasn't as impressive as Steve had been led to believe, or the hostile was definitely not human. He seemed able to absorb blows that had even Steve wincing in sympathy, and the strength of his bare hands was enough to leave visible dents.

Steve took note of all that in seconds as he skirted the danger zone, heading toward the rock pile, the only real cover for his target to go to ground in.

He almost walked right past her. Even with his heightened senses, she was pressed so deeply into the shadows, wedged between two rocks about twice as tall as her, that he almost missed her. He would have missed her, if she hadn't flinched back as soon as she saw him, trying to melt further into cover.

It felt wrong, to bring his shield up, ready to attack or defend himself against a little girl, but he did it, slipping into a combat stance. “Come out.”

She made a sound that was very nearly a laugh, in the worst way possible, and Steve had to force his heart not to break. “Why, so you can kill me more easily?”

“I'm not going to kill you!” He'd meant it as reassurance, but it came out a horrified protest. “I- please, come out. I don't like talking to shadows.”

She snorted this time, moving slightly, and the head of her staff began to glow a brilliant blue he remembered far too well for his own comfort, giving him his first good look at her.

She didn't look evil, or deranged. She looked... normal. The tattered dress from the security footage had been replaced with a plain white shirt and a purple denim skirt that reached her knees, a soft knitted purple cardigan, purple little-girl shoes designed to be worn in the desert. Her hair had been brushed and braided, her face washed and cuts bandaged. She looked halfway starved, lost, and scared, but normal.

“There,” she said. “Now I'm not a shadow. Satisfied, Captain?” She smiled, a genuinely smug little smirk, when he reacted to her calling him by his rank. “My archer told me so much about you. Shall I attack you and ease your precious conscience when you kill me?”

“I'm not going to kill you,” Steve repeated. “I swear, I'm not-”

“Soldiers shouldn't make promises their superiors won't let them keep,” she interrupted.

“I wouldn't.”

“You would in a heartbeat, mortal, to save your precious world. Don't insult me with lies- that's Mother's domain.”

“Miss, _please_.” Steve wasn't entirely sure what he was pleading for, or why he was letting a kid unnerve him like this. “Look, if you won't come out, I will go in after you.”

“Are you certain you'd fit?”

“I'll manage.”

They stared at each other for what felt like years, to the background song of the battle behind him. When it was obvious she wasn't budging, Steve shifted his shield and stepped forward, reaching out, only to snatch his hand back with a startled cry of pain, staring dumbfounded at the arrow pierced cleanly through his left forearm.

The twang of heavy string gave him enough warning to lift his shield; if he hadn't, the second arrow would have gone in further up his arm, where it was bound to do real damage.

Hawkeye's file had listed a bow as his primary weapon, and Steve had thought it was a bit... silly. Even back in his own time, the bow had been an obsolete weapon. But Hawkeye apparently had a bow updated to reflect the modern age: the head of the arrow in Steve's arm clicked almost inaudibly, detonating a miniscule flash bomb. It was so small it would be useless against a group of any size, but it left Steve blind for a few precious seconds, the back of his arm screaming in pain as the flash seared flesh and heated armor to the melting point in spots.

It was only moments before Steve could see again, but those moments were all Hawkeye needed to get down into the rocks and grab the girl, and both were gone by the time his sight cleared.

“ _Captain? Captain, can you hear me?”_

It took a moment for the voice in his fancy new communicator to filter through the haze of pain. Steve took a deep breath, throttled down everything, and answered.

“Target is gone. I lost her. Sorry, Agent Coulson.”

“ _Hold tight- we'll be with you momentarily. What happened?”_

Steve explained in short, terse sentences. “And bring something that can cut metal with you, please.”

“ _Someone said something about cutting metal?”_

“ _Stark, you're not supposed to hack SHIELD comm channels.”_

“ _You know you love me, Agent. I can finish with Adonis here later, and I'm closer than you- gimme ten seconds. Ow!”_

Stark hit the boulder to Steve's right with a deafening crash and slid to the sand, shaking his head. _“Ow,”_ he said again, filtering through speakers this time instead of the communicator. _“Okay, timeout! Timeout, wounded ally over here!”_

The hostile didn't seem very happy, but he did stop attacking for the moment.

“ _Shit, Cap, is that an_ _ **arrow**_ _?”_  Stark asked, standing slowly.

Steve nodded. “I admit, this is a first for me. I need to get it out before I heal around it.” The downside to the accelerated healing the serum had given him was, if a wound wasn't cleaned immediately, he wound up with nasty things under the new skin. Things like dirt, gravel, pine needles, bits of shrapnel, pieces of HYDRA soldiers... “Can you cut the shaft?”

“ _Yeah, just hold still.”_ Stark did something with the side of his leg armor, and a small box full of even smaller tools popped into his hand. The one he selected looked like a fat pen to Steve, but it emitted a thin beam of intense red light that cut through the metal arrow shaft like a knife through fresh butter.

“Thank you,” Steve said, grasping the head of the arrow and yanking it down, pulling the shaft out in one quick motion. Pain flared anew, but died back down almost immediately, to levels that were safe to ignore.

“ _Jeez, Cap- no need to impress anybody over here. Wow. I think I might actually be sick.”_  Stark stepped back, turning toward the hostile. _“Looks like the girl we were fighting over took off with another guy. If she were ten years older, I'd be hurt.”_

The hostile frowned. “If you are insulting Ebbe, then our fight continues anew.”

“ _Whoa, whoa, hey! I'm not insulting anybody!”_  Stark protested, lifting his hands and removing the suit helmet. “Jeez, try and call a kid cute, get challenged to a duel. The hell. You gonna be okay there, Cap? Need a Bandaid with a happy face?”

“I'm fine, Mr. Stark,” Steve assured him. Yes, he could definitely see Howard in the man- not just his looks, but his behavior as well.

“You sure? I can kiss it better if you want.”

Luckily, Agents Coulson and Romanov reached them then, saving Steve from having to come up with a response to that.

 

* * *

 

The door to Loki's cell opened and swung shut. Loki ignored the sound, feigning sleep.

“Mother?”

That voice could have raised Loki from the dead. He opened his eyes, jerking reflexively against the restraints keeping him bound to the table. “Ronal?”

Ronal smiled, but it was strained. Not that Loki could blame him, given the scum standing between them with his broad, disgusting grin on full display.

“Two's been asking to see you,” the General said. “Since he's graciously agreed to be a good breeder for us, we're rewarding him. Say hi.”

“I'm sorry, Mother,” Ronal said. “I have to.”

“Brant?” Loki half asked, half guessed, and Ronal nodded.

“He's okay. For now.”

Loki nodded, closing his eyes for a moment to calm himself. That 'for now' was the clearest message he could need. Brant's continued survival was likely dependent on Ronal's behavior, so Ronal's behavior would be perfect. “I understand.”

“So sweet,” General commented mockingly. “Well, Two is late for work, so he has to go. Unless you'd like him to stay- I'm sure the volunteers wouldn't mind doing stud duty in here. Would you like to watch, breeder? See what it's like from the outside? Might be fun. Educational, even.”

“Shut up!” Loki snarled, body spasming violently with the instinct to protect his child, an instinct he had no way of fulfilling. “Bastard spawn of a pig and a whore!”

The General laughed. “Hey, why even bring in the volunteers? I can stud him just fine on my own, I bet.”

Something cold and heavy burned in the pit of Loki's stomach, and he wished not for the first time that he had the magic to tear the cretin into very small pieces. Murderous rage, like a swell of ink-black fire, a sudden rush of warmth, and-

His water had broken.

“Get Two out of here,” he heard the General order smugly, from what seemed a very long way off. “Tell the team labor's been induced.”

 _No, no, little one, not yet!_ He begged Lofn, horrified. _Please, not yet- I have nothing for you!_ He'd spent all his magic on Brant, on pulling him back into the realm of Life, and had been given only days to recover- he didn't have enough magic in him to even give her the strength he'd gifted all his other children, much less the other gifts he'd planned for her, to keep her safe.

But Lofn wouldn't listen, even if she were able to hear. The march of pregnancy was unstoppable, as was its natural conclusion. Lofn would be born with nothing- that was all he had to give her.

Hands touched his, and he looked up into the anonymous face of some human healer. Ronal was gone, the General with him, and Lofn needed his attention now. It was the least he could provide.

 

* * *

 

Tony elected to follow the jet rather than ride in it, because every pretty boy genius who happened to be on the short and dark side _loved_ hanging out with huge blond muscle gods that had hovered over his childhood like disapproving phantoms, in addition to huge blond _actual_ gods with biceps the size of his head.

Right.

It had the added bonus of giving him a chance to get out of his sandy dented armor and looking his usual suave self by the time he was forced to rejoin them for group time on the bridge. Titanium-gold armor was nice, but he found it easier to deal with people outside of battle from behind the armor of an expensive suit.

The group that awaited him did not include Fury, which was a bit odd, because that scary fucker never let _anything_ happen on his carrier without him looming in the background.

“Where's Fury?”

Agent just smiled his blandest smile and turned away. “Excuse me.”

Tony waved a hand in Agent's general direction to show he'd heard – see, Pepper? manners! - and headed the other way, toward the only person he hadn't formally met yet. “Doctor Banner, it's a pleasure to meet you. I am a huge fan of your work.” He shook Banner's hand warmly, smiling at him because fuck yes, they were almost the same height. “Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparallelled. Also, I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

“Thanks,” Dr. Banner said, in a very _I think_ kind of way.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the Cube, Mr. Stark,” Fury said from _right the fuck behind_ him, and it took all Tony's control – that he did actually have, thank you – not to jump and scream like a little girl.

“Fury, you're a pirate, not a ninja,” Tony admonished him, turning around. “Stop playing to the wrong stereotypes.”

“Shut it, Stark.”

“I love you, too,” Tony told him, smiling serenely before returning his attention to Banner. “Now, where were we?”

“Iridium,” Cap supplied helpfully.

“What about it?”

“Why did Agent Barton steal it?”

“As a stabilizing agent,” Tony said with a shrug, wandering away from the table. “So the portal doesn't eat itself like it did at SHIELD's secret playground. With iridium and a proper power source, Shrimpy and her team can open the portal as wide as they want, for as long as they want.” He fiddled with Fury's screens for a moment, covering and uncovering his left eye before glancing over his shoulder. “How do you see these?”

“I turn.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Do you want to help Dr. Banner or not?” Fury asked with a put-upon sigh.

“Sure,” Tony said, spinning in a quick circle. One hand brushed against the underside of a console, leaving behind a surprise smaller than most jacket buttons. “It's not like you can live without me around, anyway. Dr. Banner?”

Dr. Banner smiled and motioned toward the door, which opened as if on command.

The people who walked through the door were too young even for SHIELD. The slightly older one looked about 15 to Tony, and both were dressed in leather and fur clothing that certainly made them stand out, if nothing else.

“Bruce, Asti's getting-” the older one said, looking up and freezing in mid-sentence. “What is he doing here?”

“Vali,” Thor said, at least telling Tony who 'he' was. “Aric. Why are you here?”

The older one grabbed the younger one's arm. Younger was armed. With a knife. Who carried a knife these days, and how had he gotten it on the carrier? “I believe I asked first, Prince Thor.”

“I am here to retrieve the Tesseract, and to return you and your brothers and sisters and mother to Asgard,” Thor said.

“Yeah, that's not going to happen,” Older snapped. “Take whatever artifact Odin lost home, but you're not touching any of us.”

“Vali, what happened to you?” Thor asked, shaking his head. “Please, the Warriors Three miss you. Even Sif feels your absence.”

“I don't care,” Vali-the-older said, supremely unmoved. “We aren't going back.”

“You cannot remain on Midgard- it's too dangerous.”

“Since when do you care if we're in danger?” Aric-the-younger demanded angrily. “Or do you not remember that we left Asgard because you wanted to tear us apart and lock me in a hole for protecting my own brother?”

“All-Father would have kept you well,” Thor insisted.

“As he keeps Sleipnir?” Vali asked pointedly, smiling grimly at the surprise on Thor's face. “Did you think we didn't know? That Mother wouldn't warn us what became of his firstborn?”

“What are you talking about?” Captain America asked, bewildered. He obviously didn't know when to butt out of a family feud.

Vali's eyes didn't leave Thor, but he raised his voice enough that probably everyone on the bridge could hear him. “Mother birthed his first child when he was pretty much a kid himself. Confused, scared, and alone, he gave birth and went to the All-Father for help. And Odin helped, alright- he took Sleipnir away, hid him in the stables, and _rides his own grandson like a dumb beast._ Is that the care we'd be kept in? Or would we be banished to some distant realm and driven so mad by captivity that we forgot our own names, like Jormangandr?”

“Maybe they planned to chain us each in our own little cave like Fenrir,” Aric spoke up. “None of us are powerful enough that Odin would give us an entire realm in his fear.”

“Mother warned us what might happen in Asgard,” Vali said. “I would sooner die than let any of my siblings be dragged back there, so you can choke on your promises of protection- you aren't getting near any of us.”

“Nephew-”

“You are _not_ our uncle!” Aric cut him off. “You gave up the right to call yourself that when you _congratulated_ Ronal on being _raped_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look- hints about why the kiddies don't like Thor!


	8. (Un)Expected

Despite the fact that most of the bridge had likely heard the whole exchange, the eruption of chaos was confined mainly to the corner where Fury and his various guests were. If nothing else, the people employed by SHIELD were consummate professionals.

The only thing keeping Aric from outright attacking Thor was Vali, and Bruce wouldn't bet on that lasting much longer. Captain Rogers looked like a man slipping into deep shock. Mr. Stark, lacking an older brother to hold him back, had gotten right into Thor's personal space, and Thor was too busy defending himself at the top of his considerable lungs to do anything about it. Even Fury was yelling, albeit mainly that they didn't have time for this shit.

Bruce closed his eyes, dropping into deep breathing exercises, trying to center himself before he lost control. There was a raging howl in the back of his mind and an almost violent restlessness just under his conscious thought, trying to break free. Even if the Other Guy wasn't entirely sure of what was going on, he at least knew Aric and Vali were upset, and he didn't like that one bit.

Once he was reasonable sure he wasn't going to change, Bruce opened his eyes again to find the scene pretty much exactly as it had been. He took one last deep breath and held it, then spoke up.

“I think,” he said, projecting his voice over the yelling, using the same tone and volume that had served him during natural disasters in South America, “that we all need to calm down. Now.”

Fury, Captain Rogers, and Natasha all turned immediately to Bruce, and Fury shut up. Mr. Stark glared at Thor a moment longer before shifting focus, and Aric finally stopped trying to get away from Vali.

“There,” Bruce said, smiling slightly. “Much better. Aric, please go check on Valka.”

“But-” Aric protested, then growled and re-sheathed his knife. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Bruce stepped over, staying between Aric and Thor. “Stay with your sisters for me, please.” Aric nodded shortly, stalking off the bridge. Vali made to follow him, but Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder. “Vali, do you think you can stay and explain?”

“I'll be allowed?” Vali asked, glancing back at Thor.

“Dr. Banner, we don't have time for stories,” Fury snapped. “We have work to do.”

“Work that you need me for,” Bruce reminded him. “And I don't think I can do that work until I know what happened between these kids and Prince Thor.”

“And I sure as hell don't work with people who condone rape,” Mr. Stark spoke up. “So either we all sit down and share, or I am _gone_.”

“I... think I need to know, too,” Captain Rogers said. He sounded faintly ill to Bruce. “I'm sorry, Director, but this is important.”

Fury sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. But make it quick.”

Bruce nodded, guiding Vali back to the table. “Is it okay if Prince Thor explains first?” he asked.

Vali shrugged. “It's not as though the order will change who you believe,” he said.

“Vali, you know I'm on your side,” Bruce assured him. “No matter what's said here, that won't change. I promise. I just need to know what he thinks happened.”

Vali nodded, dropping into a chair and slouching. Once more, Bruce was blindsided by just how very _young_ he was. He acted ancient, and it was easy to forget he was a teenager at best; it was only at times like this that he really seemed his age.

“Okay, Point Break,” Mr. Stark said. “Start talking, and do it fast.”

“There is little enough to tell,” Thor protested, shrugging. “Ronal bedded a lady of my mother's court. She was comely, though of a minor enough bloodline. Considering his parentage, it would have proved a good match, had Aric not murdered her.”

“Yeah, forcing a 16-year-old to marry the woman who raped him is a match made in Heaven,” Vali snapped, sitting up straighter and leaning forward. “And it's definitely the best he could manage, since your father's a lying baby-snatcher who never actually gave a fuck about Mother.”

“You will keep a civil tongue in your head when speaking of the All-Father, boy!”

“I'd dearly love to see you try and make me,” Vali shot back. “Ronal turned the bitch down. Repeatedly. And when throwing herself at him didn't work, she cornered and raped him. I have no respect for anyone who acts like he should've been fucking _grateful_.”

“I don't understand,” Captain Rogers said. “If he was unwilling, how did she... um...” He turned almost as red as Mr. Stark's armor, gesturing helplessly with one hand. “He wouldn't be... would he?”

“Trust me, Captain,” Vali said, sitting back in his chair, face carefully expressionless. “It's more than possible. _My_ training covered it, but Ronal never got that far- he wasn't being trained as a combatant, so they skimped on his torture lessons. The only reason he didn't go off the deep end is because he went straight to Mother after _Prince Thor_ asked him when the fucking wedding was.”

“Surely he would have sought marriage- he is too kind a boy to have allowed her reputation to suffer,” Thor said, apparently completely missing _everything_ that was wrong with the situation, and Bruce's vision tinged decidedly green for a heartbeat.

“You really need to stop talking now, your Highness,” Bruce said, reaching for Vali's shoulder. He couldn't turn in front of him. He couldn't risk Vali getting hurt.

“Dr. Banner-” Natasha said, half rising from her seat, but Bruce waved her off.

“I'm fine, Natasha. I have him under control. It's okay.”

“We're done here,” Mr. Stark said. “Just keep Prince Dark Ages away from me, and I can stomach this. Dr. Banner?”

“Come on, Vali,” Bruce said. He was not leaving any of the kids alone with Thor; partly because he was afraid Thor would say something that hurt them, and partly because he was afraid they might try to kill Thor. After the way Asti had gone after Natasha, he wasn't willing to say one way or the other if even Valka might be up to murder.

Vali climbed to his feet and let Bruce lead him out, not once glancing back at Thor.

* * *

 

The caves were empty, all the equipment and mortals gone. Ebbe could easily imagine the only souls on this wretched planet were herself and her archer as he set her gently on her feet. He knelt before her, resting his warm hands on her shoulders, and shook her as he might an erring child.

“Never send me away again,” he said. “Never, do you understand me? Do you have any idea how much leaving you back there _hurt_?”

Ebbe stared down at him, not sure what to say. Even her own mother had left her behind without a second thought, and the staff was meant to make him obedient, nothing more. Why would he care? Surely the orb couldn't be forcing him to feel that way. Could it? The Other had never explained how it worked, what exactly it did- only how to use it to accomplish His ends.

Her archer shook her again, gently, an admonishment at best. “Promise me, Mistress. Promise you'll never send me away again.”

Ebbe opened her mouth to yell at him, to berate him for ignoring her orders or speaking to her like that, but instead said, softly and contritely, “I promise.”

He shifted his weight and pulled her close and _hugged her_ , and how long had it been since someone had done that? She would have dropped the staff in her shock, had it not been trapped between them.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Ebbe closed her eyes and leaned into his warmth. A very small, foolish part of her wanted to release him. That part believed that maybe, just maybe, when the blue bled from his eyes, they would be warm and gray and still so kind. A useless daydream, the baseless imaginings of a little girl. But still.

She sighed and pulled back reluctantly. He let her, and she stepped away. “Where is Selvig?” she asked.

“Moving,” he told her, standing and brushing dirt and sand from his pants. “They have orders to keep the Cube mobile for now, make it harder to track. They'll contact me once they're ready to move to the next phase.”

Ebbe nodded. “It would be unwise to remain here,” she said. Which was a shame, because the caves really were very nice. “Where shall we go?”

He reached down and picked her up, holding her close with both arms. He didn't bother to speak, just took her back up into the cool desert air, and she didn't mind. She trusted her archer.

* * *

 

Tony managed to keep his thoughts to himself until they reached Bruce's little lab. Which, by the way- so cute. SHIELD actually thought this was advanced? He had better tech in his bedroom.

Aric, as sour and blond as ever, met them at the door. Definitely not social, that one. There were two more kiddos, both girls from the looks of things, in the far corner. One was brunette and sleeping, the other was blonde and watching the one sleeping.

“So, do you collect kids or something?” Tony asked curiously. “No way they're all yours.”

Bruce smiled a weird sort of smile that kind of made Tony want to kidnap him and hide him on the R&D floors of Stark Tower until he learned to be happy like a normal person. “Valka's my patient,” he explained. “The others are her siblings. Did she wake up while I was gone?”

The blonde girl shook her head, turning to look at them, and Tony managed somehow not to jump, because she had flat-out _red eyes_. The sclera and pupils were normal enough, but even the Iron Man armor wasn't as red as her irises.  He was pretty sure eyes like that didn't exist in nature.

“She feels cooler, though- I think her fever's almost gone?”

Bruce hurried over, leaving Tony to get himself settled. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on an empty table, taking off his tie as well. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could get back to Pepper and their perfect evening in.

“So,” he said once Bruce looked like he was about done with who Tony assumed was Valka, her being the sick one and all. “What say we find ourselves a Cube of Destiny?” 

* * *

 

Lofn was born healthy, with seamless red eyes that belied the Jotunn in her blood. Her skin was her father's, dusky olive, and her head was capped with fine black hair. She was the first of his children in this hell that appeared to be more than human, and Loki cried for her as he hadn't for the first ten. He hadn't even the magic left to hide her eyes, and he saw how the medics stared at her. Saw their mistrust and trepidation, and he knew what she would face.

The General had returned during the birthing, standing just within Loki's sight. Loki had no attention for him, arms free for the first time since his recapture, holding Lofn as if to protect her from all the Realms and their darkness. If only he had _something_ to give her, however small...

But there was nothing, and so he wept for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that it's short and very late. I've been neglecting a lot of my stories lately- I'm trying to do better about that. My sincerest apologies to all of you. orz


	9. Messengers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I do that a lot. orz

With Stark, Banner, and Vali gone, the tension on the bridge eased somewhat. Stark had an explosive temper and wasn't shy about letting people know he was outraged, and nobody wanted to be anywhere near Banner when he got upset.

Rogers still looked like a feather could knock him over. Natasha had moved to the chair next to him and was speaking quietly. Phil couldn't hear her from where he stood, but he trusted her to find something that would at least make the poor guy relax a little.

That left Thor, who was going to be a problem.

Twenty years ago, Phil had been one of the field agents who responded to the 0-8-4 in New Mexico that proved to be Thor's hammer. That had been an experience for all parties involved, and this trip looked to be shaping up the same.

Phil stepped up to Thor and cleared his throat, waiting until Thor turned to look at him.

“Excuse me,” Phil said politely. “I don't know if you remember me- I was there the last time you came to Earth.” Thor's expression remained confused, so he elaborated. “I'm the one who hit you with a truck. Twice. I'm still sorry about that.”

Thor continued to frown for a moment, then his expression cleared and he smiled brightly. “Ah, yes, the son of Coul- you had hair then.”

Phil sighed, and decided not to point out that he still had _some_ hair now. There were more important things that needed to be said.

“Prince Thor, I need to talk to you,” he said. “And I need you to listen, without interrupting, no matter how much you don't like what I have to say. Can you do that for me?”

Thor's smile faded into a more serious expression, and he nodded.

“Thank you.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts- it was important to be polite to extraterrestrials of great strength, even when you were about to insult them, their home, and their way of life. “You aren't on Asgard anymore,” he said bluntly. Stark would be proud. “This is Midgard, and there are certain things we find completely unacceptable. What happened to your nephew is one of those things, and you should probably refrain from mentioning it again.”

“Ronal is not too young to have-”

“Ronal's age isn't the issue,” Phil interrupted, though he made a mental note to approach Vali about that later. “Consent is. Here on Midgard, no means no, and ignoring someone when they say no is a crime. If you intend to stay here for any length of time, you need to learn and understand that.”

Thor frowned, obviously not getting it but equally obviously trying to.

“Look, I'm not saying learn our entire culture today- I'm saying keep in mind that things work differently here, and sometimes that will get you yelled at.”

“I will remember,” Thor promised gravely, and Phil got the impression that it was more oath than anything else.

“That's all I ask. Now, Director Fury would like to meet with you to get more information about the hostile. You said her name is Ebbe?”

* * *

The lab was... surprisingly quiet, considering there were four kids and Tony Stark in it. Not that Bruce was complaining; he kind of liked it, surrounded by people but still calm. He was a lone wolf by necessity, not nature, and it was nice to be around other human beings.

Nerve-wracking, but nice.

“So,” Tony said after several minutes of silence. “Do I get an explanation for the peanut gallery, or is the knife nut just gonna keep glaring at me? Because I gotta tell you, guy with a knife glaring at me? Not my idea of a good time.”

Vali immediately punched Aric in the arm. “Stop glaring.”

Aric switched to glaring at Vali. Nobody seemed to mind.

“Wow. Siblings really work like that?” Tony asked, idly flicking something across his screen so it slid onto the one Bruce was using.

“I wouldn't know,” Bruce said. “I'm an only child.”

“Same,” Tony said, glancing at the corner with Asti was still sitting next to Valka, who was still asleep. “Not sure if I'm glad of that or not.”

Aric muttered something that made Vali punch him again, then deliberately turned his back to them and started playing with the equipment on the nearest counter.

“Well, we had what we had,” Bruce said with a shrug, not wanting to delve too deeply into the question of family. “The alignment on-”

“Got it,” Tony said before Bruce could finish, correcting the minute problem. “Still, four kids? Sounds like a lot of work.”

“We used to be eleven,” Asti spoke up. “But the others are... missing.”

Tony paused, looking over his shoulder at her with a thoughtful frown. “Would one of your missing sibs happen to be a little girl about ye high with dark hair and really green eyes, wears a lot of purple?”

Aric dropped the test tube he'd been playing with, barely managing to catch it before it shattered on the floor. “You've seen Ebbe?” he demanded. “Where?”

“Arizona. That's-”

“We know where Arizona is,” Aric snapped. “Geography was one of our main focuses; we wouldn't be very effective soldiers if we kept getting lost.”

“Who was training you to be soldiers?”

“First tell us about Ebbe,” Vali said. “Then we'll answer your questions. What was Ebbe doing in Arizona?”

“Fighting with Prince Thor over a staff of some kind that lets her mind-control people.”

Aric and Vali frowned at each other, holding a silent conversation between them. Asti stood and trotted over to join in, and the silent conversation became a silent argument that ended with Asti jabbing Aric in the stomach and pushing him toward Valka's cot.

“I'm going to go talk to Prince Thor,” she announced, grabbing Vali's hand. “We'll be back soon.”

Bruce nodded, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples as Asti dragged Vali out of the lab. So much for peaceful.

* * *

Even in sleep, there was no escape. Sleep opened her mind, made it easier for the Other to pull her out and across the stars until again she stood on legs that wanted badly to tremble, under its invisible but weighty gaze.

“Do you _enjoy_ squandering his time and tools, girl?” It asked her sharply, and she fought not to shrink away from it. “His patience runs short.”

“It's almost time,” Ebbe said hurriedly. “I swear, just a short while more, and you'll have what you want.”

The Other sighed, shaking its head. “I suppose that is all he can hope to get from a thing like you. And Midgard's... Shield?”

“No match for your army,” she said. “Even if they try to fight, they can be easily crushed.”

“Why should they interfere?” the Other asked. “Draw their attention from your pawns.”

“I don't have anything to draw their attention with,” she protested, biting her lip. “My- I sent all my thralls with the Tesseract, to protect it.”

“You still have yourself.”

“But-”

“What use are you to us now, if not as bait?” the Other asked.

“None,” Ebbe answered, lowering her eyes, because it was expected and it was true. Now that Selvig had everything required to open the portal, Ebbe's part was done. She was useless now, and useless things were discarded. She could at least serve a purpose in her demise.

“Then do as you are told, girl, and keep them occupied. Should you survive, he will reward you.”

Ebbe nodded, shivering. She knew what rewards her Master handed down, and she would prefer the mercy of SHIELD; at least that death would be quick.

There was a moment of twisted pain and distortion, and Ebbe woke in her own body once more. She lied perfectly still, hardly even breathing, for the long seconds it took to remember where she was and why she was so warm.

Her archer was awake, too, with an arm around her. It reminded her painfully of her siblings, pressed tight against Ronal waiting to see if whatever noise had woken them was soldiers in the woods, coming to drag them back. Of Beyla curled against her side reminding her the monsters of her nightmares had all burned to ash. Of Mother.

In the hazy light from the parking lot she could see him watching her. His face was bathed in sulfur yellow, adding a hint of green to his eyes, and she thought of Aric- had he even missed her? She doubted it.

“I'm thirsty,” she said, because her archer would stop her if he knew, and she wouldn't be able to keep him from knowing unless she sent him away. “Go find me some milk?”

He watched her steadily for a moment; he could probably tell something was wrong, but she didn't think the bond between them would let him see into her mind. After an eternity he nodded, slipping off the bed.

“I'll be back,” he promised, tucking the blankets up around her.

She didn't tell him she would be waiting. He would hear the lie in that. Instead she stayed where she was and watched from the corner of her eye as he shrugged his jacket on and slipped out the door, watched him cross in front of the window, then slowly counted to twenty before climbing out of bed herself and pulling the staff from under the bed.

She didn't want to do this.

She had no choice.

There was no point in sneaking- she left through the door, ducking around the corner of the building. The town her archer had chosen was small, set off by itself, but her mission could still be accomplished here. She needed only to find the right target.

Ebbe set off down the street with a silent apology to her archer. She was leaving him behind, not sending him away, but it amounted to the same thing.

Just another promise broken.

 


	10. In Need of Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be completely unsurprised if literally nobody is reading this story anymore. There are no words for the depths of my sorrow. orz

Asti tracked Prince Thor to a small room not far from the bridge where he and a handful of SHIELD personnel had gathered, forcing the lock and door open with a few swipes of her finger and a touch of magic.  She fell back as they entered, letting Vali take over for her.  Among their siblings she was used to being obeyed and listened to, but with strangers she was just as glad to let her older brothers draw attention from her.  Vali let go of Asti's hand so she could hide more fully behind him as the humans and Prince Thor turned toward them, expressions ranging from outrage to curiosity.

Vali cleared his throat, keenly missing Ronal just then.  When their handlers had discovered Ronal had no stomach for real battle and a gift with words, he'd been given special training in exactly this sort of thing.  Vali was probably going to make things worse without Ronal here to guide him through it all.

“Can we help you two?” Director Fury asked, his face a mask of indifference belied by the way he held himself tense and ready to react to anything Vali did.

“You're discussing Ebbe,” Vali said.  He didn't know how to dance verbal circles like Ronal, so he might as well not even try.  “We don't trust Prince Thor or you with her.”

Prince Thor moved to speak, but Fury raised his hand in a gesture for silence.  Thor turned to one of the other humans, who shook his head slightly.  Though he obviously didn't like it, he gave Fury the silence he demanded.

“All we want is to stop her,” Fury said.  “We're protecting our own.  Surely you can understand that.”

“Your own are nothing to us,” Vali said.  “All we want is our family back.”

“Your family declared war on the human race.”

“Our family did no such thing,” Vali snapped.  “Ebbe was taken from us.  Violently.  Against her will.  Whoever stole her must be controlling her.”

“You know that for sure?”

“I would stake my life on that,” Vali swore flatly, not allowing himself to drop his gaze from Fury's.  However callous or harsh Fury might think himself to be, he was nothing compared to men Vali had known throughout his childhood, and Vali would _not_ allow himself to be intimidated.  Not while Ebbe was at stake.

“You'll forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical,” Fury said.

“If your disbelief endangers any of my family, forgiveness will be the least of your concerns,” Vali snapped.  The agents in the room shifted subtly, into defensive stances with hands resting on firearms, and Asti tensed behind him.

Prince Thor was the one to break the thick silence, clearing his throat meaningfully.  “These are the children of my brother, Fury,” he said.  “You must know that I will defend them.”

“Even though they don't trust you?”

“I do not need their trust to be their shield, Director of SHIELD,” Prince Thor said, smiling slightly.  There was just the faintest taste of electricity in the air, the barest scent of stormclouds.  “And I extend this protection to Ebbe.  If you wish my aid in halting her plans, I would have your word that you will do her no unnecessary harm.”

However little Vali might trust Prince Thor, and however much he wish the man far away from him and his siblings, he couldn’t help but feel grateful when, after several seconds of nigh-unbearable tension, Director Fury gave one curt nod.  “You have my word.”

The feel of an impending storm dissipated, leaving the room much less oppressive, and Prince Thor smiled.  “Then let us return to our discussion.  You are welcome to stay, Vali.”

Director Fury obviously didn’t agree, but the agent who had earlier silenced Prince Thor silenced his superior just as easily.  Asti slipped from the room without a word, likely returning to assure Aric they had everything in hand.  Vali focused his attention on the meeting.  He’d failed his sister once already- he was _not_ going to do it again.

 

* * *

 

 

SHIELD would be looking for her, Ebbe knew.  She needed to draw their attention, that was all, and they would take care of the rest for her.  She just needed to be quick enough that SHIELD found her before her archer did.

The town her archer had chosen was small, lacking numbers and likely importance.  Every town had its police, but she could not trust the police to contact SHIELD or, if SHIELD contacted them, to hand her over.

Ebbe had not the training her older siblings did, but she had enough to know the basics.  Where the wolves had taught them how to go unnoticed and do their work in secret, it was enough to tell her how to draw attention, and it was still night when at last she found the sort of target she sought.

It wasn’t a full base, more of an outpost than anything, but Ebbe knew military when she saw it.  The military would turn her over to SHIELD if it was asked of them, and she felt it reasonable to assume SHIELD would hear very quickly about an attack even on this small group.

It was difficult but far from impossible to bypass the fence and slip through the scant patrols into the compound, which appeared almost temporary now that she was in it.  It was still a suitable target, but it was… interesting.

She shook her head, pushing those thoughts away.  She had work to do.

There were precious few buildings, all of them flimsy prefabricated things, interspersed with dark tents and vehicles.  A small airfield with four helicopters.  Several troop trucks.  Everything stenciled with neat white letters marking them as property of the US ARMY.

Yes, she could work with this.

Ebbe didn’t have Asti’s skill with runes, but she didn’t need it- the staff was good for more than just creating thralls, and the nearest truck made quite a satisfying explosion just fine.

The reaction, of course, was immediate. Give the army its due, its soldiers were well-trained.  At this time of night, most of the men and women who scrambled from their makeshift barracks were only half dressed, but all of them were fully armed, and they didn’t hesitate to aim their weapons at her, a stranger where none should be.  If they were very well-trained, they would hesitate only a little before attempting to gun her down.  Hopefully the staff would protect her.

“Hold your fire!” A voice snapped, one that sounded vaguely familiar, and an older man stepped into the light of the burning wreckage, one who’d taken the moment to dress himself as befit his rank.  One she recognized, and the sight of him turned her heart to lead in her breast.

“Ross.”

“Four.  Fancy meeting you here.”

“Go away, Ross,” she said, biting her lip.  He was too far away to use the staff, and she would never reach him with his soldiers at the ready.  She didn't need Ross, she needed SHIELD, and they wouldn't come if Ross took her in hand.

“I just got here,” Ross said.  “Were you hoping to get someone else with your little show here?”

“That isn't your concern,” Ebbe snapped.  “Go away before you ruin everything!”

“Give me a good reason.”

“ _Because you aren't SHIELD!_ ”  She was running out of time.  It would take only so long for her archer to follow her here.  This was her only chance, and Ross was ruining it!

“I can take you to SHIELD.”

Ebbe paused, breath half-drawn to yell at him again.  That, she had not considered.  “Why would you not take me to the wolves?” she asked.  Surely Ross still worked on behalf of the wolves, if he was still in the army?  Or were the wolves separate from the rest of the military?

“Because I owe you a hell of a lot more than I owe them.  And One wouldn't want me to.”

“No,” Ebbe agreed, gnawing uncertainly on her lip.  “He would not.”  Vali might have abandoned her, but she knew him enough to know that even he would not wish her back in the hands of the wolves.  “You’ll take me to SHIELD?  You swear?”

“Cross my heart,” Ross promised.  “But only if you don’t cause any more trouble.  Do we have a deal?”

It felt wrong, to trust Ross of all people, but what choice did she have?  There was no other option that she could see.

Ebbe sighed, relaxing and making herself as non-threatening as possible, and nodded.  “We have a deal.”

She let Ross's man take the staff from her, allowed them to bind her wrists and lead her to one of their helicopters.

This was what she wanted.

And it was only wishful thinking and a trick of the light that showed her brilliant glowing-blue eyes in the milling crowd beyond the fence.

 

* * *

 

 

Ronal couldn't see the sun rise.  His cell had no windows, not even thin slits to let in natural light and air.  After those months in the wilds with Mother and his siblings, it felt suffocating to be caged in again.  He didn't remember it being so bad before, but then he hadn't really known what freedom was back then.  It was unbearable now, a constant itch down his back of always being watched, a phantom feeling of not enough air.  No matter how deeply he breathed or how often he told himself it was just his imagination, the feeling persisted, and he was almost - _almost_ \- relieved when the door to his cell opened and one of the guards stepped inside.

The man was Carrying a tray that probably held Ronal’s breakfast, and he looked about as uncomfortable as Ronal felt.

“Good morning,” Ronal said. “I’m assuming it’s morning, at least.”

“It is,” the guard said, clearing his throat.  “It’s 0900 hours.  I brought you breakfast.  You’re- I was instructed to make sure you ate everything.”

“Thank you,” Ronal said, accepting the tray.  “What other orders did the General have for you?”

“Once you’re done, I’m escorting you to the showers, then the lab.”

Ronal nodded, eating a forkful of what he thought was supposed to be scrambled eggs.  Mother hadn’t spoken much about his time as a breeder for the wolves, but what little he’d said was enough to let Ronal prepare himself, at least a little.  He wouldn’t be able to choose who fathered his children like Mother had, but other than that… he could manage.  He would have to.  Brandt’s life was riding on it.

And maybe, if he was biddable enough to satisfy the General, they would let Mother keep Lofn just a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so so so so sorry for the extremely long wait. Please forgive me. ;-;


End file.
